


No good can come of this

by Said_no_one_at_all



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-06-30 05:33:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 25,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15745284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Said_no_one_at_all/pseuds/Said_no_one_at_all
Summary: Should they rumble now or stretch it out a little more? Not sure how the next part goes.





	1. Chapter 1

He walked pensively around the long table in the hall. Another damned thing he was being forced to do. Sure, they’re making it seem as if they were asking but both he and the dragon queen and her little lord hand know it’s not really a request but an order.His will is being bent again for the sake of others.  
Should be nothing new at this point. He’d been in the service of one master or another most his life except for early boyhood which was its own separate hell. There would be no peace and even if there was, what would he do with it? He knew nothing of the calm stillness that came over those who had found some fulfillment, tranquility. It was never for him, he was little more than livestock or a tool. Purpose built, no one ever asked him what he wanted. He never much thought about it himself. Why? He wasn’t one to nonce about and whine about silly desires. There was always shit to be done. Now, though, it was different. He was no longer the mad dog, craven, bloodthirsty even.  
The world was changing and it had dragged him along with it. He was not what he once was, lame leg or not. He was still a fighter, still strong but there was something deep in him that had changed. Part of him died the day the girl left him for dead. Something had died but something else had been born. Nothing was so simple as kill or be killed. Now there was an awareness, a depth that wasn’t there before and in that depth something lurked. It swam in the darkness, swirled within his soul.  
He served without question for so long. Did as he was bid, let them treat him as if he had no will of his own. But not this day, this day it would be his will. He was tired of taking orders from those highborn cunts. Not this time, this time he would have his will be done. End of the world or no, he would have this one thing. This one thing would be his, he would have it or he could give a shit less if the whole world burnt down or froze. Everyone dies sometime anyways.  
“ You want me to go off and get miself killed for the sake of saving this shit hole of a world that’s never done me any favors then there’s something you’re gonna give me for it.”  
Clegane placed his large hands upon the table and looked the dragon queen dead in the eye. Tyrion cocked an eyebrow upwards and tried to think of what the hound could possibly request, he could not fathom what he would ask for when all he ever seemed to live for was blood and brutality and dornish red.  
“You’re not hoping to get a castle out of this are you Clegane?” Tyrion quipped whilst the queen merely observed the proceedings resting her cheek upon her slender fingers and only slightly raising a pale brow.  
“No, imp, I have something else in mind”  
“What is it you feel would compensate you for the risk we’re asking you to shoulder, what would you have?”, the queen finally broke her silence and she shifted her gaze up to the large man.  
“ I would have pick of the litter, of the wolves. What’s left anyways.”  
“ what are you getting at Clegane?,” Tyrion walked around the corner of table quite confused by the large man’s unexpected statement.  
“ I will have the she wolf.”


	2. Chapter 2

Tyrion Lannister imagined his death many times in various situations but never did he think it may come from choking on his own spit.  
“You what?”he finally managed to speak after several minutes. “You can’t be serious, Clegane. Why? Lady Sansa has been through far too much and her brother will never agree.”  
“I don’t want little bird you twit”  
“Arya? The little one? Now I know you’re joking, what is it you’re really after? You’ve already been given your family’s titles and once everything is settled you may take possession of your keep. What else do want, be serious and reasonable.”  
“ I don’t give two shits about what you think is reasonable but I assure you I’m quite serious.” Sandor crossed his arms over his chest and leveled his gaze to the queen.”You saddled me with a title I didn’t ask for and a keep I never wanted, but the girl, I will have her or you can fuck right off.”  
“ and what are you intentions with her, just so we are clear?”, the queen asked as she rose from the table arms clasped behind her back.  
“ I mean to marry her, proper and all that horse shit.”  
The hound did not shy away from the queens gaze but held it until finally she walked towards him and spoke, “Alright,” the dragon queen sighed and paused for a moment before she turned back to the hound. “The match is unconventional to say the least but not out of the question. If this is what you choose to ask of me then this is what you shall have. Arrangements will have to be made and upon your return you will be wed to Lady Stark.”  
“No.” The hounds voice boomed in the chamber, “Now, or else I’m not shuffling off to get killed over a promise. Either I wed the She-wolf before I leave or deals off.”  
“ I suppose we have little choice then, Lord Clegane.” She sighed,”You may leave us,” and with that, the large man gave a dissatisfied hmmpf and left the chamber.  
As soon as the door closed Tyrion turned to his queen, “Are you sure about this? Jon Snow is never going to turn over his most beloved little sister to the “mad dog of the salt pans”. As he scrubbed his hand across his face and exhaled before speaking again, “I am afraid your grace has made a promise that cannot be kept.”  
“ Jon is the head of his house and king in the north but he also is my subject. I have no doubt this match will not please him but it isn’t up to him now is it? I am queen.” Daenarys circled back to her chair and steepled her fingers. “ Clegane is being asked to sacrifice much if not all, and while I don’t understand his motivation I will grant his request, we really don’t have much choice. Please inform the king of my decision and have him make the arrangements to have his sister brought from Winterfell immediately, we have very little time.”  
And with that the queen exited the chamber and left Tyrion Lannister staring at the floor wishing it would swallow him whole.  
After his meeting with the hand of the queen Jon Snow stormed down the corridor to Daenarys’ rooms nearly bursting through the door.  
“ Do you make it a habit to just barge into another person’s chamber?” She asked as she rose and circled around her desk strewn with maps, plans and correspondence.  
“ You are not giving my sister to that murdering beast,” he proclaimed without preamble, chest heaving.  
“ And since when do you presume to give me an order?” The queen shot back without missing a beat as she leaned upon the edge of her great desk.  
“He can’t have her, please Daenarys don’t do this to her.” John pleaded as much with his words as he did with his eyes.  
Her gaze softened and after a moment she spoke, “Your sister is a true born Lady of House Stark and as such she will be called upon to do her duty to her house and her queen. I didn’t take this decision lightly but it is necessary. Besides, Clegane asked for this match, insisted upon it. Why?”  
“ I know they traveled together but Arya doesn’t give much away,” John threw himself into the nearest chair and looked up at Danny. “She won’t agree to this, you know.”  
“She Has to.”  
“Why?”  
“Because you are her brother, head of your house and king in the north. It is not for her to agree or disagree when there is so much more at stake.” Dany sat back down at her desk, “ I was once in the position she is about to find herself in, I know what I’m asking, what I’m telling you to do. If she is as strong and as fierce as I keep hearing she is then I wouldn’t worry for her.”  
Dany got up from her desk once more and walked to the chair now holding the deflated king, “Send a raven to Winterfell, call for both your sisters to meet you here immediately. Sansa should be here for the wedding. If you trust her enough, send a second raven to her to let her know the reason for their summons but no one else should know.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Something must be wrong, why else would Jon send for both of us? It makes no sense, something has to have happened,” Arya remarked as she rode alongside her sisters carriage.  
Sansa kept a cool expression. One of the many lessons she learned from lord Baelish was to never act too surprised, wait until the truth revealed itself. “ I don’t know why we’re being called for and it will do no good to speculate. It could be anything, seven knows we’ve seen so much happen already.”  
Arya was clever and observant, one of the many traits that helped make her so formidable but politics and scheming was was not something she had an aptitude for unless it was for justice's sake. She was through and through her father’s daughter. While Sansa would never call herself gifted in that area either she had been exposed to so much more of it while at court and under the mockingbird’s tutelage, something about this situation wreaked of intrigue. She dreaded it. Something was going to happen either to her or Arya, she was sure of it.  
The trip to dragonstone was not to say comfortable but not entirely unpleasant. Arya seemed unphased for she was used to traveling fast and light, without creature comforts. Sansa while not as delicate as she once was, was ever so grateful to end journey even if the pit in the bottom of her stomach grew heavier with every inch of ground they covered. The sooner they found out the meaning of all this the better.  
Sandor Clegane was still a force and he still scared the shit out of anyone he sparred with. Sometimes one has to enjoy the simple things, like making Poderick Payne piss himself and land in a pile of horse shit. He twisted the blade in his hand as he paced the training yards. He took a quick look into the clear sky, the girl should be arriving today. Did she know her fate yet? Probably not. He wanted to see her face when she found out, he chuckled to himself. Just as he felt his mood brighten a bit from the thought of Arya’s ire he was pulled from his revelry by the whinging little bastard.  
“ Arya should arrive today,” he went on,”hope she finally finishes you off you rotten asshole.” Gendry bristled as he proceeded to splash water in his face and wash the grime from the forges from his neck. The little bastard still held some illusion that Arya might be his Lady, pffft, fat fucking chance. She was too strong for him, she’d probably off him herself if he grated on her too much. No, she was his. The little Baratheon bastard would have to go sniff around some other little lady’s skirts for the she-wolf was spoken for. Sandor was going to enjoy this.


	4. Chapter 4

Late in the afternoon the party from Winterfell finally made it through the gates, Sandor heard the commotion and made himself as inconspicuous as possible given his size. He leaned back in the shadows and watched as the party entered. He didn’t want the girl to see him yet, he was sure she knew that he had lived but not much more than that. He wanted to savor their reunion. He bled for her, killed for her, nearly let himself die for her and here she was, so close . It wouldn’t be long before she knew what brought her here and she was going to be a right handful. She was supposedly quite the lethal little thing these days, no matter, that wasn’t going to deter him. He slunk even farther back in the shadows and chuckled to himself. It wouldn’t do for him to be presented to his lady covered in sweat, dirt and some poor unfortunate’s blood. No, he should try and make a good impression, clean up a little, she was a lady and he a lord after all. And so he turned to go back to his chamber and prepare what was sure to be a lively evening.  
It’s funny how quickly a mood can change. Arya had been so happy to see her brother, to let herself fall back into being a little sister again if only for a moment. There was a reason he had called for them and now that the words were clumsily leaving his mouth, far too many words than were necessary all she could focus on was a choice few. Marriage. Two days. Sandor Clegane. Arya stared at her brother owlishly, deathly quiet.  
“Arya? Please ? Say anything.” Jon implored her as he kneeled in front of the chair she somehow found herself sitting in. Everything was a little bit dull, a little fuzzy but suddenly there was clarity. She turned her head to the window and the setting sun basking in its last little rays of warmth and then looked back to her brother before her and at last she spoke.  
“I am going to kill that son of a bitch.”  
Arya remained in her chair, clearly lost in thought. Mostly thoughts on all the many painful slow ways she could think of to end Sandor Clegane.  
To say Sansa was shocked would have been a gross understatement, she honestly thought it would be her sold off in marriage again long before Arya. Her little sister had always seemed to escape her title, she railed against the expectations put upon her and seemed to always come out stronger for it.  
As much as the idea of her sister marrying seemed a absurd, the name of the groom had her even more confused.  
“How is this even possible? He’s highborn but not a lord, no titles, no land, and yet somehow the queen allowed this?”  
“Daenarys declared him the rightful heir to his family’s titles and holdings as reward for his services. He is a lord now, not that he wanted to be. He made that plenty clear when he told her he’d rather have his fingernails pulled out then be called his lordship.” Jon looked back at Arya, who still in the chair but now he saw her nails digging into the arms.  
Jon turned back to Sansa and barely above a whisper asked, “This was his request, I still don’t understand why. What do you know about their time together ?”  
The legs of the chair screeched across the floor as Arya stood.  
“Don’t talk about me as if I can’t hear everything you say. Nothing happened, we traveled together. Brienne kicked him off a cliff and I left, end of story,” Arya declared. “ I am not marrying. I am not marrying him. Your can tell your dragon queen to . .”  
“ You can tell her to what?”, Daenarys asked as she swept into the room quickly and quietly as if she had always been there.  
“Dany, please.” Jon furrowed his brow and spoke as in a pleading tone,” please reconsider this.”  
The queen clasped her hands behind her back and nodded toward the door, “ I would speak with Lady Stark alone, now.”  
Daenarys took the chair on the opposing side of the fireplace where Arya sat and looked at her softly. “ I know what I’m requiring of you. .”  
“ I am fairly certain you don’t!” Arya shot back.  
“ I am sure this all seems terribly unfair but it is your duty. And you will be married to Lord Clegane in two days. For whatever reason it is that he decided to make this request I would not refuse him after the services he has rendered to me and your brother,” she continued.  
“You know he hasn’t asked for a single thing, he could have, but he never did. Just this. For some reason you are important to him even though he so often declares he cares for nothing. Curious isn’t it?”  
“Lord Clegane has a title, lands and his own keep to offer you, as the second daughter and behind your brothers it is a suitable enough match as you have no claims to Winterfell.”  
Arya was glaring now.  
“ He has had your brother’s back several times now, you know that? His service to my crown has been invaluable.”  
“You marry him then.” Arya snarked.  
“ He asked for you.”


	5. Chapter 5

Three hours later and Arya was exhausted in every possible way. She could see why her brother admired the dragon queen, she was a force. She was immovable. Arya would be married day after tomorrow to the man she’d effectively left to die in a ditch. She still didn’t understand why. He’d treated her as if she was a nuisance, something he’d been saddled with. Was he trying to punish her for leaving him to die, for not killing him when he asked? That whole thing had really come back to bite her in the ass. Was he expecting a dutiful wife? Had he injured his head in fall? Was she going to have to murder him before or after the wedding? She glowered as she made her way through the corridors. Where was the big bastard now? Maybe if she broke a bone or two he’d reconsider?  
Sandor had actually taken a bath. Awkward as it was stuffing his large frame in a wash tub and since he didn’t plan this real well the water was tepid but he was clean, mostly. More than usual anyways. His shirt, now that was clean. The rest well, he’d dusted it off anyways. Good enough, he thought. He looked himself over in the polished mirror and almost considered a trim of his whiskers before he came to his senses. “Fuck all that,” he said to himself. He wasn’t some welp trying to woo a pretty little flower of a girl. He didn’t need to woo her, she was already his. Nor was she a dainty flower, she was the wolf bitch. She’d seen him covered in dirt, rain, blood, guts and sweat. She would take him as he was.  
It was time to let her find him, she was sure to try and maim him before the ceremony. No matter, even if she got in a couple scratches she would be saying her vows to him even if he had to drag her to the altar by her mop of dark hair. Her dark hair, shorter than a lady’s should be, her grey eyes like a winter sky, soon she would be in front of him.  
She had rode in with the Stark bannermen, forgoing the carriage unlike her sister. He expected as much. He’d gotten a fairly good at her considering the distance. She was still small but no doubt stronger than she was during their travels, well fed and clean. She sat confidently upon her mount, oh but she was a sight. His wolf still refused to dress like a proper lady but she no longer looked like bedraggled boy. Her needle still at her side after all this time. He’d never thought her pretty. She wasn’t, she was lithe and dangerous and beautiful to him.  
She was a weakness, always had been. He should never have crossed swords with that big bitch but his possessiveness got in the way. The thought of her being taken from him, he never considered it. He had plenty of time to dwell on it as he laid on the ground alone and bleeding, waiting for death to take him to the hell he was sure he deserved. He would rectify all that. He had failed her before, let her slip off to learn dark things in dark places. She was such a noble creature so fierce about right and wrong, so convinced of good and evil. He hoped those dark places had not corrupted her noble blood, he had meant to keep her from all that. What was done is done.  
A stroll through the yards might be in order. He could get some fresh air and the open spaces would make it harder for the little heathen to attack him without her shadows to hide in. She’d be too pissed off to resist, he was sure of that. Her temper would get the best of her and she’d show herself. Out in the open she couldn’t take him but it would give him time to wear her down. She would bite and scratch and claw like a feral creature but he could take it. In the end he would be rewarded when she called him husband.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should they rumble now or stretch it out a little more? Not sure how the next part goes.


	6. Chapter 6

Arya had gone to the main hall where there were men scattered about sipping ale and exchanging tales but that big bastard wasn’t among them, she had nosed around enough to find his chambers but he wasn’t there either. As she was about to return to her own chambers she happened to pass a window, a window looking down on the training yards. Long had it been since night fell and although the yard was illuminated by lanterns and torches there was no one on the yard save one, Sandor Clegane. Arya stopped abruptly, she’d recognize that hulking beast anywhere. She neared the window and slinking to the side she peered down at him. Odd that he should be there at this time, obviously there was no one to spare with, no one to beat down, so why was he there? Arya smirked,” So we’re trying to be clever these days, as if staying in the open is going to save you. No matter.” Arya backed away from the window and made her way back to her own chambers. After she made it inside she locked the door behind and knelt down at the side of her bed and pulled out her pack. “Maybe it’s time to teach an old dog my new trick.’’  
Sandor eyed every corner of the yard, all entrances and exits, nothing. One or two idiots passed through the yard but still no sign on the girl. He was uneasy, he had expected a confrontation as soon as she heard the news, half expecting to hear her cursing him from across the castle but there was nothing but dull silence. “That little bitch is up to something,’’ he said to no one in particular. Suddenly feeling exposed he decided to return to his chamber with the distinct feeling that he should sleep with his dirk and one eye opened. He was suspicious of everyone as he made his way back to his room latching the door immediately behind him. Then like a frightened child he checked under the bed in the wardrobe and the window ledge before he shuttered it. He wasn’t truly afraid but the suspense was wrecking his nerves. He had been staying away from the wine, he had wanted to be sober during their reunion. Fuck it, he decided. He grabbed his dirk and drank his wine, let her try and come for him. Soon the bottle was empty and his eyes were heavy, tomorrow he would find her, fuck the game. Either she killed him in his sleep or they were getting married, he was too drunk to care which.  
Arya slept fitfully that night, she knew where to find him and she had just the right face but what would she do when she got to him? She wanted to say she would put her blade through his skull like she had promised all those years ago but she couldn’t kill him then and she wasn’t sure she could do it now. She was angry yes, she detested the idea of being given away as a commodity. She was confused by the whole damn thing. It still made no sense unless this was all just an elaborate punishment, but elaborate had never been his style. She sighed and settled herself in her blankets once more. Tomorrow was going to be eventful, one way or the other.  
When morning had found Sandor, he was groggy and had a sour taste in his mouth. He threw his forearm over his eyes and growled at the morning light peaking through the shuttered window. He really should have gotten up and tracked down the wolf bitch at sun up but first order of business was going to be food. He poked his head out his chamber door, there were always servants scurrying back and forth, too many for his liking but today they might be useful.  
There was a boy sweeping in the hall, pimple faced and pale. Ugly as a boot sole. He yelled to the boy to have food brought to his room whatever could be thrown on a plate without fuss. “On with with it boy,’’ he barked and then tossed the boy a piece of silver for his troubles before slamming his door on the servant’s face.  
The boy turned from the hound’s chamber door and smirked, “He’s such an idiot.’’  
Sandor tossed water on his face and rinsed the sourness from his mouth grumbling to himself as he readied for the day. Suddenly there was a wrap upon the door. “Bout bloody time you got back with my food boy, could have gotten it faster myself,”’ he snarled as he opened the door, the boy hurried in with the tray. “Set it down over there,” the hound motioned with a tilt of his head while he turned and busied himself fastening the buckles to his sword belt. Turning his back on the boy had been a mistake. Before he knew it the door had been quietly latched and he had a blade at coming at his face.  
He caught a flash of light as the sun glinted off the blade and he jerked and spun out of the way just in time. Turning around he was able to catch the wrist of the boy before pinning him by his neck to the back of the chamber door. He held the boy there for a moment as he ripped the blade from his hand and tossed it across the room.  
Arya bristled with anger as he held her there. She had hesitated and he caught her. She ripped the face of the boy off with one hand as she clawed the hand around her neck with the other. She expected him to release her once she showed her face but he didn’t. He stared at her wide eyed for a moment before he came back to himself, still with his hand on her neck he yanked her from the door towards him moving his grip to the scruff of her neck winding his fingers into her hair. He pulled her into him, forcing her to look up at him as he wound his other arm around her grabbing her free hand as grasped at the his fingers in her hair. “I’ve been waiting for you.’’  
Arya tried to ignore the deep timber of his voice averting her eyes from his. She tried to throw her head back but he simply tightened his grip, and while it wasn’t painful it didn’t feel good. “What the fuck do you want dog? What are you after?” she growled. “Couldn’t find any whores that would have you? Or are you just trying to punish me leaving you,” she snarled as she continued to try and break his hold but he held her even closer.  
“No, girl.” he said simply, quietly.  
“What do you want then?,” Arya finally willed herself to look him in the eye.  
He was different and the same and she couldn’t quite say how, maybe it was his eyes. Were they always that shade? Had they always looked so warm? She tried to shake that notion from her head but she still couldn’t move, he just stared down at her. Finally his hold on her loosened and she broke away, fumbling with the latch as she launched herself into the hall and away from him. He didn’t dive after her, he simply leaned upon his door frame and let her go. After all she wasn’t going anywhere. Just one more day and she was his.


	7. Chapter 7

Arya stormed down the hall, head low and scolding herself. Stupid. What in the actual fuck just happened. She didn’t notice her sister coming towards until she nearly ran smack into her.  
“Arya, where have you been? You were supposed to come meet me to make the final arrangements,” Sansa said petulantly.  
“What arrangements? I’m busy Sansa.”  
“Your wedding. And if you’re busy trying to find a way out you’re wasting your time. You could do worse than him, you know.”  
“There is nothing worse than him, he is literally the worst shit in all the seven kingdoms.” Arya growled at her sister.   
“We both know that’s not true.” the elder sister replied icily. “Come with me, we need to talk.”  
Sansa lead her down the halls back to her room and sat herself behind her desk. “Sit.” She pointed to an opposing chair and Arya knew it wasn’t a request.  
“ I’m sorry.” Arya said quietly.  
“ I’m not angry with you Arya. I know all too well how you feel but you need to put it aside.” Sansa clasped her hands on her lap like the proper lady she was and continued. “The queen wants this match, Jon bent the knee to her and we are obliged to comply with her request. You fighting isn’t going to stop this but our alliances are already stretched thin. We can’t afford to fight within ourselves. We must appear united and strong. We need the queens support. He’s not all bad you know. He showed kindness to me and I was too fearful to accept.”  
“He wanted you that’s why. He said as much,” Arya spoke quietly.  
“ you believed that?” Sansa nearly laughed,”No. I was weak and I allowed myself to be cowed by those lesser than myself. He tried to explain it to me but I was too much a scared little girl. He acted the villain because that’s what everyone expects. He had no reason to be different. Then he left and ran into you.”  
Arya rolled her eyes,” I was nothing more than a irritation to him. I don’t know why he’s doing this. If he wanted a wife I’m sure there’s someone.”  
Sansa sighed with exasperation, “you know there isn’t much preparation left to do, I thought there were be so many things that needed tending to but really you just need to be fitted for your dress, your future husband has seen to everything else.”  
Arya’s sleek eyebrows quirked up. “What do you mean?”  
“Lord Clegane has seen to most of the details. There are some minor things I’ll attend to but he’s handled almost everything else. Including the details of your dress.” Arya looked on at her sister as if she’d grown another head but Sansa continued, “also Lord Clegane told Daenarys that you were similarly sized so she has had her seamstresses working on your gown and cloak.”  
Arya just gaped at her sister. She was going to find that dress and strangle him with it. The pit in her stomach felt ten times heavier. This was happening. The room felt small and unbelievably hot. The collar of her jerkin felt like a hundred tiny hands around her throat. Arya stood quickly knocking over her chair.  
“Arya?!?” Sansa came around the desk just as her sister crumpled on the floor. Quickly she knelt by her sister placing her head in her lap. She was breathing but clammy to the touch. Just then a servant poked her timid head into the room, “ Is everything alright my lady?”  
“No, call for a maester, quickly!”  
Sandor found himself leaning against a tower wall watching a few of the unsullied practice two on two, not half bad for a bunch of eunuchs. Sipping a warm ale he paid little attention to fat Robert’s bastard march up to him chest puffed and face red as a babes slapped ass.  
“What,” Sandor barked.  
Gendry threw a sword at the hounds feet. Sandor just chuckled. “What are you doing boy? Your an annoying little bastard but I don’t feel like killing you just now. Plenty of other things on my mind as of late.”  
“You don’t deserve her. You’re nothing but a filthy murdering dog.” Gendry was seething.  
“Mind your tongue boy. I know what I am, and the girl isn’t your concern. You’re a bastard, she a true born. You’re too weak willed for her. She’s a strong one. She would tire of your incessant whinging within a week.”  
Sandor turned to face the boy directly, “ You mean well but you’ve got your head up your own ass if you think you have a chance with her. You’ve got too much to prove and too many fool ideas about chivalry to be any good for that girl.”   
“What’s all this about,” Tormund drawled as he ambled over.  
“None of your concern wildling,” Sandor leaned back against the wall returning to his tepid ale.  
“Hope she kills you on your wedding night.” Gendry turned and stomped off grabbing the sword he slung on the ground as he retreated.  
“Wedding night?”  
“Fuck off.” Sandor said plainly, ignoring Tormund’s waggling eyebrow.  
“Who’s the lucky woman, or should I say unlucky? Hope you know what to do with her. I don’t want to have to explain to you how babes are made,” Tormund was leering now, enjoying every moment of the hound’s discomfort.  
“ I know how to fuck, you ginger cunt.” Sandor spat.  
“How would I know, never seen you with a woman,” the red headed man giggled,” thought maybe you were thinking about joining the unsullied.”  
“Fuck off would you.”  
“So?”  
“What?”  
“Who?”  
Sandor hmmpfed and glared at the red headed man but Tormund was stubborn and he knew he wouldn’t shut up until he answered. “Fine. Arya Stark.”  
“Ha! Jon’s baby sister? Who’s dick did you suck to pull that off?” Tormund was reeling now, “Well all I can say is, don’t cross her. I heard she was one of them faceless men. Think she’ll try and kill you?”  
“She already has, more than once.”  
“Well that’s how you know it’s real. Nothing says love like a murder attempt. If she really hated you, you’d be dead but since she lets you live she must have a soft spot for ya.”  
“You’re fucking awful to talk to, you know that,” said Clegane. Tormund just shrugged and leaned against the wall next to the hound. They paid little mind to the faint old woman that approached.

“Lord Clegane, I have word from Lady Sansa.”


	8. Chapter 8

“Speak up woman what’s little bird want?”  
“It has to do with the lady Arya. She is unwell. The maester is with her now.” The old woman averted her eyes from the hound as she spoke, “lady Sansa thought you should know.” And with that the old woman bowed her head and turned quickly away. She made it not two steps before the hound grabbed her arm and spun her back towards him.  
“Where is she? Tell me where she is now.” He practically snarled at the old woman.  
Sandor’s leg had never been the same since that big bitch but it was mostly manageable, but right now it screamed as he hauled his large body up to the wing where the Stark sisters had their rooms. As he stormed down the main hall Sansa Stark appeared from one of the chambers. Shutting the door quietly behind her she looked slightly startled by his figure.  
“Lord Clegane, you needn’t have troubled yourself coming so quickly I didn’t mean to alarm you.” She stood prim and proper as always, and then she motioned to a door across the hall, “since your here, might we speak?”  
He nodded briskly and followed Sansa’s retreating figure into an empty study. “How is she? What happened, she seemed fine this morning.”  
“ you saw my sister this morning ?” Sansa asked.  
“Aye. Tried to put a blade in my neck. She was well enough then.” Sandor threw himself in a large chair, his leg screaming in protest as he waited for the little bird to continue.  
“It’s nothing serious, scared me half to death like she’s prone to do. She was up most of the night before we arrived socializing with the bannermen, drinking and learning their bawdy tavern songs. Then she was in a hurry to be on our way the next morning to see our brother. Well then after our arrival she’s been so preoccupied with with the wedding preparation..”  
“You mean plotting to stab me,” said the hound. “It’s alright little bird, say what you mean.”  
Sansa rolled her eyes, “ She fainted. She paid no attention and hadn’t bothered to eat or drink since we arrived, too absorbed in her plotting to care for herself properly. And so she fainted, I’ll be reminding her about this for quite some time.” Sansa rose from her chair, “ they’re getting ready to fit her for her dress, we were just discussing it before this incident.”  
“She doesn’t have to wear the dress, as long as she shows I couldn’t care less about what she’s wearing.”  
Sansa smirked, “No. she’s wearing the dress, even if I have to stuff her in it myself. I don’t get many opportunities like this with my sister and I’m not going to  
miss this because of her foolishness. Our mother would have wanted her to wear a proper gown to her wedding. I’ve seen the dress, it’s quite lovely. How did you get the detail of the faces right?”  
Sandor stood from his chair and grumbled.  
“Excuse me?”  
“I asked your brother.” And then the hound turned and left.  
Someone had brought Arya mug full of some sort of soup, quite bland but filling. It wasn’t appetizing but it would keep Sansa from trying feed her like mother hen.  
Just then Sansa swept back into the chamber followed by four older woman carrying bundles and one with a dress stand.  
“What’s all this?”Arya quirked a brow with the mug still in her hands.  
“Your dress needs a final fitting. It should be close, just may need some minor adjustments,” Sansa said cheerily. She was thoroughly enjoying the look of terror on her sister’s face.  
“No. I’m not wearing a bloody dress, I’m not some doll to be played with,” Arya said.  
“Stop acting like a petulant child, you haven’t even seen it yet,” Sansa crossed her arms across her chest. “Arya, come look at it please. Mother would have wanted this for you but she isn’t here so it’s my job see you dressed properly for your wedding. You need to see it. Come here please?” Sansa walked over to her sister and held out here hand. “I think you need to see what he’s done.”  
Arya reached out and took her sisters hand, she couldn’t remember the last time she had done that. She let Sansa lead her to the women in the corner who were busily assembling the dress on the stand. She blew out a deep breath as the seamstresses backed away from the gown. Arya was trying to look anywhere but corner were her dress stood.  
“Go on,” her sister nudged her.  
Arya finally leveled her gaze at contents carefully put together on the stand. It was gray, but not just one shade, many. The fabric had a simple pattern like swirling clouds. Lighter grays trimmed by darker ones. The neckline was lower than she was used to but it ran straight across to the sleeves laced together with simple black details. The skirt fell naturally just above waist from a steel gray sash and blessedly didn’t seem to involve a heap of petticoats.Her family’s sigil was emblazoned on the left side of the bodice, it wasn’t just a wolf. It was Nymeria, her Nymeria. Arya stepped closer and ran her fingers over the embroidery. It wasn’t a perfect likeness but it was her that much was obvious. Her bridal cloak hung over the shoulders of the dress. One of the seamstresses quickly removed it from the stand and turned it inside out. It was the same fabric as the dress but with far more embroidery. The inside of the cloak was covered with blocks of needlework. Each block was trimmed as if it were a frame and inside a portrait. Each portrait a wolf, Lady, Ghost, Shaggy Dog, Grey Wind, Summer. In the middle of the field was the dire wolf emblem of her house backed in white. They were all there, together, her family. Arya turned back to her sister, “ who did this?”  
Sansa Stark walked up to her sister and placed her hands upon her shoulders. “It was his idea, he had Jon help with the details, he only ever saw them briefly when he was in Winterfell.”  
“They’re beautiful.”  
“Told you.” Sansa squeezed Arya’s shoulder.  
Arya finally acquiesced and allowed the seamstresses to fit the dress upon her. She watched in the mirror as they worked. They came well equipped and in no time they were done. The alterations were very minor. The skirt didn’t even need hemming so they left the dress in her chamber when they finished, Sansa had excused herself and said she would return later. Arya just stared at it, he’d done this for her? She was so confused still, part of her wanted to find him and demand he explain himself another part of her still wanted hurt him. She got up and ran her fingers over the embroidery again and sighed. Tomorrow she was getting married. In a dress


	9. Chapter 9

Arya was dead to the world, the last few days had finally caught up with her. She slept so soundly she didn’t notice her sister calling her name. Sansa on the other hand was fully aware her sister was softly snoring when she should already up and bathed. She put her hands on her hips and huffed, “ I almost feel sorry for him.” Then kicked her sister in the foot. “Wake up!”  
Arya shot straight up, hair in her mouth and plastered to her head in odd directions. Sansa softly laughed, “ yes, indeed the hound is a lucky man.”  
“What do you want?!?!” Arya irritatedly scrubbed her hands across her face then rubbed her eyes still adjusting to the late morning light.  
“You have a wedding to get ready for.”  
“Just toss me out the tower window.”  
“I’m afraid not, I brought you breakfast. I don’t want to have another incident like yesterday,” Sansa preened and Arya just rolled her eyes.” After you finish, the maids are preparing a bath for you.”  
“ I’m fairly certain he doesn’t care about any of this.” Arya groused as she began to pick at her food.  
“Oh I know that he doesn’t, he told me as much. But, you are a Stark of Winterfell and you’re going to present yourself as mother and father would have you do.” And with that Arya knew she lost the argument.  
Several hours later she was fed, washed, scrubbed pink and impeccably groomed, she found the whole process invasive. She sat on a stool in a new finely trimmed shift and new black leather slippers whilst one on the wash women trimmed and cleaned under her nails. Maybe there was still time to be eaten by a dragon or struck by lighting, yet the dress taunted her knowingly from the corner  
.  
Sansa had gone to check on the activities for the day while Arya was being dunked in soapy water, when she returned her sister was sitting staring off in the distance while the servant woman criticized the state of her nails in relation to her station. Sansa stayed and watched until the cantankerous old woman was finished and left. She walked up to her little sister and ran her long fingers through Arya’s freshly washed and still slightly damp hair. “Will you let me help you with your hair?” Sansa asked softly.  
Arya wanted to make a smart retort, but judging by the wistful expression on her sister’s face now was not the time or place, “ Is it necessary?”  
“ You’re not wearing it like father and you don’t have enough to do anything elaborate like you should but I could put in a few plaits, keep it out of your eyes, nothing too complicated.” Sansa said as she continued to gently run her fingers through the dark hair.  
Arya sighed,”Do your worst.” Sansa practically glowed.  
When she had finished she placed three small braids on Arya’s left side pulling then back and under the rest of her hair, another small braid at her temple on the other side was also tucked in, just to keep her hair out of her eyes as promised.  
“It’s almost time, you need to get dressed, I’ll help you.” And with that Sansa began to remove the dress from it’s stand as Arya felt the panic well in her stomach.  
“You’re going to be alright Arya. He’s done all this for you, I doubt he’d try to hurt you now, besides I’m sure you could take him, lame leg and all.” Sansa smirked. “come let’s get your dressed.”  
Arya complained the entire time. She still loathed dresses and she was livid at being forced into a corset even if Sansa insisted the reed boned kind were hardly uncomfortable and Arya was whining like a small child. Finally Sansa finished lacing the back of the gown and admired her work in the mirror. Arya was lovely, but still very much herself. Her parents probably wouldn’t have approved of the husband but she imagined they both would have been teary eyed at the sight of Arya in her wedding outfit. There was just one more thing.  
“You’re missing something.”  
“What? Tell me there isn’t another piece to this bloody dress,” the bride complained.  
“No the dress is fine, but you have no jewelry.”  
“ I don’t have any and I don’t wear any either. Hand me my sword belt, needle will do.”  
“Oh no, you aren’t wearing your sword to your wedding.”  
“He is going to have his sword but I can’t have mine?” Arya whined.  
“You are a lady, he is a Lord. Clegane will be expected to wear his sword, you will not. Besides it would ruin the lines of your dress,” Sansa was putting her foot down. “ I had something else in mind though.” With that Sansa moved to unfasten her necklace, pulling the long chain through the circle.  
“ That’s yours, Sansa, I’ll be fine without it.”  
“ I’m not giving it to you,” Sansa said as she looped it around Arya’s graceful and pale neck. “ you're just borrowing it, besides the bottom is quite sharp. If need be, you can jab someone with it. Otherwise it will just give you something to fidget with if you get nervous during the ceremony.” Sansa said knowingly as she gave a final adjustment to the chain, smiling softly to herself.  
The elder sister then turned and grabbed the final piece of the outfit, the cloak, draping it softly over her sister’s bare shoulders. The wolf pattern of the lining wrapping around Arya set off the dress along with the darker shell of the outside that contrasted the light fur of the collar. She smoothed the fur on her sister’s cloak and wrapped her arms around Arya’s shoulders, “You’re ready.”  
“No I’m not.”


	10. Chapter 10

Sandor Clegane was not what one would call a morning person yet he was always up before the sun. Years of routine and training had made it so, unless he’d gotten shitfaced the night before and that wasn’t laziness that was just called unconsciousness. So the morning of his wedding he was up to see the sun rise organizing weapons in the training yards for lack of anything better to do. It would be many hours before anyone would require anything of him and he didn’t know what to do with his idle time.  
He debated on bathing again. This time with hot water. He’d gotten a new jerkin and cleaned off his boots, not easy to come by in his size. His sword was polished as was his scabbard. He truly had nothing left to do and it was making him antsy. He was not accustomed to excitement, things may be expected to happen but he never had much feeling about things one way or the other. This was different though, today he would do something he swore he’d never do, but then again he’d allowed them to make him a lord no matter how much he loathed the idea. That title would serve him well today, if not for that lordship bullshit the she wolf would have been out of his grasp. Today would be eventful, eventually. Now if only someone would get up and come out here so he take their head off, nothing eased his nerves better than knocking some fool’s head off first thing in the morning.   
Eventually Tormund wandered out still drunk from the night before. “ Your up early, enjoying your last hours as a free man?”  
“I just want to get it over with, sooner the better.”   
“ Think your girl is going to cooperate? Heard she’s a wild little thing, if you change your mind maybe I’ll take her off Jon’s hands.” Tormund chuckled as he surveyed the yard. Sandor just glared at him.  
“I’d sooner rip your dick off and shove it down your own throat before I let you touch her.”Sandor grumbled, “sides girl is mine and I’m not one for sharing.”  
“Relax dog, I’m only playing.”  
“Why don’t you shut your hole and do something worthwhile like pick up a blade?” said Sandor as he grabbed a practice sword and aimed it at the wildling.  
They sparred for a good three hours, well into breakfast before Tormund had his fill and went off in search of food and better company. The hound decided it was time to start his own preparations and went in search of some damned hot water.  
After he’d eaten a small meal of meats and cheeses he found his bath hot as all the seven hells. Truth be told he didn’t love that much heat but it was his wedding so he’d suffer just this once. He scrubbed and he scrubbed, he even made a go of digging the gods knows what that was under his fingernails but fuck it the water hadn’t grown cold. He looked out to see the position of the sun and gathered he’d wasted enough time.  
He dressed in his last clean shirt, the nicest newest one he owned. His breeches and boots followed. He nearly left his mail off, but he thought better of it, girl might try and stick him mid vows or something. He grabbed his new jerkin, it was black. It would have been traditional to wear his house colors but he’d be damned if he wore a gold jerkin in public. After he fastened everything and put on his sword belt he looked himself over in the mirror. He wasn’t one to give a shit about his looks especially after spending his life scarred as he was, the girl had never judged him for it. Didn’t stare or comment but today of all days he wished he could make them vanish, she deserved as much.   
After scolding himself for wallowing in self pity, he grabbed the cloak he’d use for the ceremony. He would just assume let the girl keep her own cloak. Her family’s sigil was more noble than his but it was tradition so he’d had it made. It was supposed to be his cloak he drapped on her but if it had been his it would be comically long on the girl. This was one quite a bit shorter, too short to be practical for him but perfect for his little wolf. His tiny wife. The hour of the ceremony was nearing, drawing him and the girl closer together.   
Sandor Clegane left his chambers and strolled the castle grounds, while time was growing shorter he was still too early and no one had use of him he had been told. He kept walking until he found himself in the same corridor he’d run into little bird in. Both of them must be chambered here, he thought. His instinct told him he should go back and wait but he hadn’t seen the girl since she tried to put a hole in him and he was curious if she approved of the dress. So despite his size he attempted to ease down the hall quietly and unnoticed until he came to what he believed was Arya’s door. Curiously enough it was halfway open.


	11. Chapter 11

Arya felt wobbly as she was escorted down the halls of the castle. Her brother and sister were both with her now but she still felt exposed. She never pictured herself married and certainly never thought to be married to her former traveling companion. He was supposed to be dead after all. She never told anyone the details of their travels, only that they had until they hadn’t. People made assumptions about what happened between them, none of the theories matched the reality.  
The hound was a coarse, hard man but she knew he had good reason to be. He wasn’t the born monster his brother was he was forged into the mad dog by those who had position to force him in that role, using his size and skill to pigeon hole him into a position she wasn’t sure he ever wanted.  
She had hated him so much. He had killed her friend. The more time she spent with him the more she had to face the harshness of the world and the reality that even if you don’t wish to do something sometimes you don’t have a choice but to comply or die. Her father had refused to yield and they took his head for it, no matter how kind, or just he was it mattered not to the world. Sometimes life was cruel and unfair, and the hound knew all about that.  
Still he held on to her. Defended her when she needed it. Told her honestly all the things she wished to know. Kept her fed, mostly. Sometimes they went hungry but he’d suffer longer to spare her as much as possible. The most important thing though, he never tried to make her something else. She wanted to fight , he’d taught her. He didn’t look at her like some breakable helpless thing. Even her own father and wished her to be different but Sandor Clegane never did.  
They’d been on their way to port when Brienne caught up with them. He had planned to take her across the narrow sea. Would they have stayed together? She had thought to leave him once there but she wasn’t sure if really would have. Where would they be if they had made it across?  
Why was he so bloody confusing?She guessed it could be worse. She knew him, he wasn’t some prancing boy out to turn her into some helpless little ornament to flaunt on his arm, she hoped. She didn’t know what to think.  
Her feet felt like weights in her small slippers as she made her way to courtyard. They were to marry outside on a dais. She didn’t like septs. She remembered mentioning that to him as they passed one in burnt out village and he must have remembered. There was no heart tree but at least they were under the sky. There were garlands strung about but nothing too fancy. It was simple. She sighed as she was about to enter the corridor to place where she would wait until it was time for her to be presented.  
Her brother and sister were whispering back and forth, she neither knew nor cared about the subject. She wandered into the dim corridor, while Sansa and Jon quietly bickered, then suddenly a large arm cupped its hand over her mouth and dragged her further into the late afternoon shadows. A gruff voice, but familiar and deep said to her, “missing something ?” as needle was slid into her sash and then just like that he removed his hand and slid farther into the shadows back where he came from, she never was his face this time but she knew the shape of him anywhere. She smiled softly to herself as she wrapped her hand around her well worn hilt. He’d brought it to her even if she meant to stab him with it. It was either the smartest or dumbest thing he’d ever done.


	12. Chapter 12

Sandor made his way swiftly down the darkened corridor. It had been a risk to grab her like that. Luckily she seemed a little distracted this afternoon. He couldn’t help himself though. After he walked into her chambers expecting her to either be finishing her preparations or burning her wedding gown, he couldn’t resist the sight of her little blade sitting there against the chair. She practically slept with the damn thing, how someone convinced her to leave it, especially today of all days, he was amazed. He picked it up and rolled it in his hand, how she managed to kill with a toothpick was a mystery to him. He would return it to her, he thought after the ceremony, but when he caught sight of her he figured now was as good a time as ever.  
The girl still weighed little more than a feather as he pulled her near, although she had filled out some. She smelt like a meadow after a storm, fresh and full of promise. He had to be careful not to linger, now wasn’t the time. He very much wanted to look back at her but he was afraid he’d see only her feral anger in her doe like eyes.  
She was sure to be disappointed with him. He suddenly felt as if he’d made a mistake to force her hand. She wouldn’t forgive him no matter what his reasons. He could live with a lot of things but he never wanted for his wolf girl to truly hate him. His shoulders slumped the farther he got from her. He should let her go, it wasn’t fair to shackle such beautiful wild thing to someone like him. He sighed and looked toward the sky, he was running out of time. He would need to tell the queen to release Arya from her betroval immediately.  
Just as he was rounding the corner her came across Missandei.  
“Her grace wishes to see you, Lord Clegane.”  
“I need a word with her myself, take me to her.” Sandor said with more grit in his voice than he intended. Daenerys’ handmaiden turned and ushered him towards the dais where he was to be married. The queen lingered near it while another servant talked animatedly to her. At the sight of large man approaching her she waved off her servant and gave him a tight polite smile.  
“I trust everything is to your liking Lord Clegane. The only wedding I’ve ever attended was my own and this is quite an elegant affair compared to a Dothraki ceremony.”  
“ I want to call it off .” Clegane blurted out, the queen only raised her fair brows.  
“Why may I ask, since you were so insistent, and I hear Lady Arya accepted the match herself. In less than a hours time you will be wed. It’s a little bit late to decide you don’t want her.”  
“ It’s not that.”  
“ Then what?” Daenerys stepped closer to the hound and looked at him intensely.  
“ It’s not fair to her.” He said quietly.  
“ Life isn’t fair, neither is love.” Daenerys stepped closer to the large man and grabbed his arm and wrapped her own around it as if they were old friends.” When found I was to be married I was terrified, even more so when I saw my husband for the first time. He was tall and dark and fierce. He was the finest Dothraki warrior, the best killer. I thought my suffering would never end. But I was wrong. Yes Drogo was all the things I thought but he was more than that too. Once I got to know more than just fighter, that he was just as fierce in the ways he loved as the ways he fought. I could not have loved him more even if I did not choose him myself. You are just as fierce. Your feelings for Arya are just as fierce if not you wouldn’t be willing to sacrifice so much for her. It would be a disservice to her to deny her a husband who would treasure her just as she is. You’d better take your place soon the ceremony is about to start.” And with that the fair haired queen gave a gentle pat to the hound’s arm before releasing it to take her seat on the side of the dais. The courtyard had quietly filled with people taking their places. The Septon had made his way to dais only to give Sandor the disapproving eye.  
“What you looking at, you old bastard.” Sandor grumbled as he made his way up the dais, somehow he still held on to cloak meant for his bride. He stroked the fabric reverently as he took his place on the dais, trying to ignore the growing number of eyes on his back. Apparently the union between a dog and wolf was something to see.  
The heavy doors that lead to the courtyard opposite the dais creaked open as the small group of musicians began to play. Out of the shadows came the former bastard of Winterfell, now king of the north, Jon Snow. At his side was Arya, dressed in her wedding gown, the hilt of needle barely visible. She held her head high as she took her brother’s arm. They began their walk towards the dais, Sansa trailing a step behind.  
People whispered at the girl, at the match, how did such a thing happen? Sandor didn’t care, she was here, she wasn’t running and neither would he. She looked good in that dress. He etched the sight of her in to his memory for all the nights he was sure to spend parted from her but today she was here. He held out his hand to her as she made her way up the dais, her brother releasing her to Sandor’s hand. Before he made his way back down he whispered, “ hurt her and I feed you to Rhaegal myself.”  
He held her small hand in his as she took the final two steps to stand beside him. There was no turning back now.


	13. Chapter 13

Arya was trying her best not to give in to the panic welling inside her. The Septon was droning on and on and although she was but a step away from him she couldn’t concentrate on what he was saying. The only thing she could manage to focus on was the warmth of the hand that held hers. It wasn’t necessary at this point of the ceremony, their hands were not bound yet but still he held her, her slender fingers gently rested upon his battle scarred hand.  
After what seemed a lifetime of listening to the dull voice of the Septon Sansa moved gracefully up the dais to remove Arya’s cloak. After a moment of feeling the brisk late afternoon air dance across her bare shoulders Sandor draped her in his sigil. She felt a pang of guilt over wearing another house’s colors but before she could get too lost in her feelings the Septon was ready to bind their hands and lead them through their vows.   
Blessedly Sandor went first. He knew he vows by heart already. He’d been forced into attendance at so many courtly weddings he needed little direction, it hadn’t hurt that over the last week he may have repeated them to himself while he was alone just to make sure he didn’t falter.   
Arya did her best to keep her voice even but even then she stumbled. She didn’t agree with the bits about obeying and keeping her husbands hearth. She couldn’t keep the edge from her voice while reciting those words and Sandor couldn’t help but smirk. The she wolf was going to pissed about that for a while. Finally they finished with the promise to the seven to be each other’s from this day until their end of days. With the words spoken and hands bound they were married properly, publicly and legally.Sandor could not have been more pleased, Arya on the other hand still wasn’t sure that feeding herself to a dragon was out of the question.  
Arya was lead down the dais by her husband, he had really yet to release her hand he had taken from Jon. Her nerves were quite wrecked and never did she wish for banquet full of wine more than she did right now or maybe a hole to swallow her up. She was lost in her thoughts when his deep voice seeped in to disturb her.  
“Girl,” he said again and all she could do was look up at him with a confused look upon her face. He nodded towards his arm and she noticed he’d finally released her hand and was waiting for her to take his arm to be lead to procession to the banquet hall. She timidly took his arm as if it would bite her.  
This was not a feeling she was accustomed to, she wanted to berate herself for letting herself be shaken like this but what was she to do. She just married the hound. This was not supposed to happen and yet it had. She thought the wedding was the thing but now she realized that was just a passage into something else. She promised to be his, for the rest of her life. What did that even mean? What did he expect from her?   
Was she supposed to be a good little lady of the house? Manage the servants, keep his bed, bear his babes? What did she just do? Why did she say the words? Why didn’t she proclaim she’d rather anyone but him? The panic was sprinting back and forth in her head so ferociously she didn’t even notice they had already reached the hall until they were announced by Tyrion Lannister as “Lord and Lady Clegane.” Arya’s head jerked up to see her husband staring at her wearing a knowing smirk. She wanted to slap it right off his face. She made sure to stomp on his foot as she took her seat, her new title hanging sourly in the air. She looked over at him once more as if there’d been a change, what was she going to do now?


	14. Chapter 14

Sandor surveyed the scene before him, it was rather larger than he anticipated but then there was free food so that was enough to attract the wildlings. At Least the wine was good, the dragon queen had good taste. Servants had brought heaps of food before he and Arya but she had yet to reach for anything. She was staring off to the side at nothing in particular but she hadn’t said a word since her vows. She was just as stubborn as she’d ever been but his temper had mellowed since his fall. With a chuff of air he sat up straighter and went about putting food upon his bride’s plate. He wasn’t sure what she preferred since during their time together they ate whatever they could get their hands on so he made little piles of roasted root vegetables, some meats and even some fruits. She was bound to like something, it wouldn’t do to let her starve during their wedding feast. When he was finished he set the plate in front of her and pushed his glass of wine towards her.  
“ I’m not hungry.” Arya’s voice was sharp but quiet.  
“Girl.”  
“Quit calling me that,” she snapped.  
“Fine, wife, I won’t have you hungry at our wedding, eat something or I drag you to the kitchens and force you. I won’t have you making yourself ill again like you did yesterday.” He growled lowly.  
“I’m fine, Sansa overreacted. It’s none of your business anyways.”  
“You are my business,” Sandor said as he reached for the hand she had resting on the arm of her chair. Arya tried to snatch it away from him but he was too fast. He held her hand firmly and bent himself to speak quietly just for her to hear. To anyone watching it looked like a sweet gesture between the newly wedded, but Sandor was growing agitated. “YOU ARE MY WIFE.”  
“Why?” Arya finally met his gaze, her large gray eyes seemed softer in the candlelight of the hall. “Why did you do all this? You said yourself it was my sister you wanted. So why am I here? What could you possibly want from me?” Her voice started to crack as the words poured from her mouth.  
He looked at her dumbfounded, how could she not see? He let go of her hand and stood from his chair, he didn’t look at her as he swiped the bottle of wine from the table and walked out of the hall. All she could do was sit and watch his large back disappear as he rounded the corner.  
Sandor made his way outdoors to the cold night air that was more welcoming than he could have imagined. He wanted so badly to go back and grab the girl and hold her to him. He wanted to tell her that she burned a hole in soul and how he cried her name as he laid there waiting to die. He had been content to let the hound die after he lost her. Without her he felt no purpose. When he’d heard she was alive and that she’d come back from the house of the black and white he wanted to go to her just to see that she was real. Now she was his wife but she couldn’t think of anything but that stupid things he’d said about her sister. He sat upon a low stone wall and took a long pull from the bottle. When he saw her come up the dais he thought maybe just maybe she might accept him but no he was just a dog, he’d never be a fit mate for the she wolf.  
Arya stared at her plate. The room was filled with the noise of so many conversations, the clanking of plates and cups along with the cheerful music of court musicians. She wanted none of it. He’d looked as if she’d lashed out at him when she asked why. Never had she felt guilty for the things she’d said to him until now. She just wanted out of this bloody hall.  
Suddenly the queen sat down next to her. This woman was as quiet as any faceless man. It was unnerving. “You should be with your husband, you need not worry about offending me by leaving the festivities early.”she leaned back in the chair and crossed her legs, totally at ease.  
“He’s pissed off, let him sulk.” Arya said, trying to seem unaffected.  
“ I doubt it, if he was really pissed I’m sure some of my furniture would be broken.” She reached for the wine and took a dainty sip before she continued. “He’s not much of a talker so you’re going to have to go by his deeds. Judge him that way and not by the things that come from his mouth. You’ll both be better off.” With that the white haired queen rose from the chair and began chatting as she made her way back to Jon.  
Arya finally broke down and picked at the food he’d put on her plate and polished off the glass of wine he’d left her. He never did come back


	15. Chapter 15

Sandor didn’t know how long he stayed out on that bench but the bottle of wine had long since gone dry and the warm buzz was fading. He decided he should go and find the girl, it was their wedding night afterall. He stood stiffly and sighed deeply. He hadn’t really known what to expect tonight but sitting alone with his wine was definitely not something he’d considered.   
He trudged back to hall only to discover it was mostly empty. Arya was nowhere to be seen. He’d missed the entire banquet. He hadn’t thought he’d been away that long but the only thing left in the hall was a few drunken bodies a couple more on their way out. “Well shit,” he muttered as he left the hall again. If she wasn’t pissed before she was probably flat out livid now. It was time to face the little she wolf, claws and all.   
He thought maybe he should try her chambers but arrangements had been made for them to be housed together, he had been to their new set of rooms earlier in the day when he moved his things but he wasn’t sure if she knew about it or if she would go anywhere near a place she was meant to share with him. He groaned yet again as he made his way towards what was meant to be their shared home for the moment. The moment he opened the door a piece of crockery few past his head and smashed on the wall, then another and another.  
“Where did you go? You were gone all night. Did you go find a whorehouse to entertain you?” Arya sniped as she kept throwing anything and everything within reach.  
Sandor dodged and blocked making his way across the room until he too was in striking distance.   
“You crazed little bitch!”He made to grab for her hands but she retreated farther back shoving a chair in his path. “Stop you heathen girl!” He yelled at her as he tossed the chair out of his path.  
“You left me there all night at our table alone, everyone kept staring at me! While you were off at a brothel no doubt!” She practically hissed, as she chucked an unlit candle stick at him.  
Finally she’d run out of space and was backed against the large bed. Quickly she hopped up and stood so she was even taller than he was. “This was all your doing and you just left me there to be stared at and whispered about. Did you do all this just to punish me?”  
“What?No, seven hells girl.” He went to reach for her again but she backed up just out of his reach. He could have grabbed her just then but honestly she was distracting. She had long since been removed from her formal gown and now was just in her delicately trimmed shift, which in and of itself was not immodest but since the way she stood with the firelight behind her, well he was staring.  
Arya finally realized what he was looking at so intently and smacked him in the face with a pillow. “Stop that!”  
“Stop what? Looking at my wife? Because that’s what you are, MY WIFE!” He made to grab for her again only this time he didn’t miss, thankful for his long reach as he grasped at her leg and knocked her on her bottom. Once she was down he was able to get hold of one hand then other while he had her legs pinned with his large body. He pulled her up from the bed by her wrists that he now had wrapped in one hand and held them close to his chest. He used his other hand to force her to look at him by her chin. “Aye, wife.”  
He pulled her closer to the middle of their sitting area and then backed her into the last standing chair before taking the stool near the hearth and sitting in front of her. He still held her hands in one hand but he let his grip loosen as he let their hands rest in her lap. “Girl,” he said softly.  
“Told you to quit calling me that.” She was still pissed but her tone was more even now.  
“ Arya.”  
“What”  
“ I’m sorry about the feast I didn’t think I’d been gone so long. I didn’t mean for you sit through it alone.”  
“Where the fuck were you then, even the queen came to give her opinion on your absence.” She kept her eyes low, she knew what he’d been up to, he’d been almost as much a whore monger as the imp. She’d been witness to his habits in their early travels until the money had run low and he could no longer afford it.   
“ I drank my wine out in the cold, I didn’t want to lose my temper so I thought I’d settle myself out of doors. I finished off that bottle and didn’t realize the time until I went back to the hall and the place had emptied out.”  
“Bullshit.” Arya countered as she pulled her hands away and crossed them over her chest.  
The hound had leaned back to his upright position and sighed, “girl, it’s the truth. No whores, haven’t had one since before we parted. Have no use for them now anyways, if you forgot, I just got married and the only bitch I plan on mounting is you.”


	16. Chapter 16

“Gods you are violent little heathen, and people talk about me.” He said as he arranged her in his lap keeping her hands under control. “ Calm yourself, woman.”  
“ I’m not your whore you big beast!” Arya swore as she tried to wiggle out of his grip.  
“For fucks sake girl, I know you’re no whore, but you are my wife and I will bed you. I will bed you and gods willing a pup will follow. But only you, girl. I have no desire to lay with anyone else much less some unfortunate tavern wench.” He continued to wrestle with the she wolf in his lap,”Stop, I won’t have you hurting yourself while trying rip out my eyes.”  
“You’re full of shit.” Arya yelled still trying to worm out of his grasp but he was everywhere. “I know for a fact you lusted after my sister. So what, you couldn’t get Sansa so you took me instead, poor horse faced Arya.”   
Just then he let go of her and she tried to get off of his lap but she didn’t get far before he snatched her hands again. He pulled her to face him, his brow furrowed.  
“You foolish girl, I was trying to get you to kill me when I said that shit. I was in pain and I thought hurting you would get you to end my suffering, but no, you just ran from me and left me to die. You’re pissed at me but you have shit to answer for too.” He pulled her hands up to his chest yanking her closer to him. “I laid there for days maybe longer, just on the edge of death, the pain was so blinding. I don’t remember everything, someone came along eventually, but I suffered. Alone. After everything you left me to die. Even so, all I could think about was you alone on your way to Bravos, if you even made it that far. And if something happened to you it was my fault, I failed to protect you and I shouldn’t have lost.” He waited a moment before he began again. “As for your sister, she was just a pretty bird in cage who was tortured for sport. I tried warning her and when I left I offered her a way out but she was too frightened. That’s all, that’s all it ever was. I didn’t really want her then and I don’t want her now. It’s you I wanted, it’s why I stole you in the first place. I knew you’d be something from the start, little hellion that you are. Fierce, fearless to the point of stupidity sometimes, stubborn as a mule, deadly little thing but gods, you are beautiful. Whoever called you horseface I’ll fucking kill right now if you want.”  
Arya had quit trying to pull away, her rage had left her but she didn’t know what she should do or say, after a moment the only thing she could think to say was, “pretty sure they’re already dead.”  
“Good.”  
“ I didn’t leave you to suffer.”  
“Really now.”  
“I was angry, the things you said hurt. It was everything I was afraid of but it isn’t why I left.”  
“Tell me then.”  
“ I couldn’t watch you die. I watched as death took my father, saw my brother’s body desecrated. I’m thankful I didn’t see what they did to mother. Syrio, Yoren, everyone I cared about was dead or gone from me. You were all I had left. Why didn’t you let me help you? Brienne is good but she isn’t you, even I can beat her. You didn’t even have to fight her, we could have just left,” Arya’s voice for higher and speech quickened. “You knew where I was going, why didn’t you follow? You knew I was there and you just stayed away.” She scrunched her eyes closed, willing herself to stop the tears that threatened to fall, Arya Stark did not cry.  
“Sweetling, I couldn’t follow you. It was a long time before I could stand much less travel that far alone. Besides I didn’t know if you’d made it that far and I didn’t want to know if you hadn’t.” Sandor sighed as he rubbed his thumbs along her slender wrists. “I fucked up and you were gone. I stayed on to help the man that saved me until he got killed along with everyone else.”   
“I never wanted you in the house of the black and white, I figured I’d sell sword or find guard work that would have been enough keep us housed and fed. I didn’t care what happened to this shit hole kingdom as long as you were safe, but I lost you. I didn’t have anything left. Before, I’d hoped in time you’d see how much I loved you and you’d come to me willingly, but your too damned stubborn. I’m sorry I had to do it this way but I couldn’t wait for you any longer.”  
“So what happens now?”


	17. Chapter 17

“ You going to quit trying to put a hole in me?” Sandor said as he raised his good brow.  
“I can’t say I’ll never want to murder you again but you’re pretty safe for the moment.” Arya wrapped her arms around herself again, now after everything that has been said she felt even more exposed. Why didn’t she at least bring a proper robe? She backed away from him a bit and turned herself to the fire. While the days were brisk but tolerable the nights were getting colder and she shivered just a little bit.  
“Still cold blooded, little wolf?” The chuckled softly at his wife’s discomfort.  
“ Fuck off, not all of us are built like bear with the fur to match,” she snipped.  
“Gods you are a mouthy little thing,” he said before he stood up and held his hand out to her. “Come on then, it’s late.”   
“Come on for what?”  
“Bed. Come on I’ll keep you warm, it’s alright. I’ll behave myself.” He motioned with his fingers for her to take his hand once more. She stared at his open palm for a moment before reached out and grabbed at his fingers, her hands too small to do much more. She sighed, she was too tired from the day’s events to keep attacking him tonight. She let him lead her to the large bed, a bed big enough to actually fit him comfortably. She remembered the times when they had actually come across a bed here and there and he was always comically too large.  
He pulled back the bedding topped with a fine fur for her to climb in, she hesitated just for a second before she shivered again and eagerly climbed into the bed. She settled herself on the far side trying to avert her eyes and he readied himself for bed. She’d only ever seen bits and pieces of him. Now it was hard for her to pretend she wasn’t curious, as much as she tried to act indifferent she kept side eyeing him as he removed his jerkin, and shirt. Eventually he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off his heavy boots before stripping down to his small clothes. Arya could feel herself blush, the heat in cheeks betraying her as she inwardly scolded herself.   
Sandor noticed the color in her cheeks and the way she kept her head too unnaturally still, trying and failing to stare at the fireplace and nothing else. He had planned to sleep with his breeches on but since she was trying to be sly he stripped down to his small clothes. Afterall she was his wife she should get used to seeing him like this. He climbed into bed, heading more towards the middle, before pulling the covers up. He reached for her, not asking just pulling her towards him. He felt her half hearted resistance but it didn’t stop him as he pulled her close and wrapped her in his large arms. He laid on his back head propped upon the many fine pillows as he arranged her in the crook of his arm so she could lay her head upon him.  
She held out for moment before she acquiesced and laid her head down. He wasn’t lying about keeping her warm, she had called him a bear earlier but she doubt that a bears fur would be as soft as his. She cursed him inwardly as she felt herself be comforted by the feeling of being held. They laid there for a little, then he began to run his hands along her back, the heat of his palms and the slight pressure he applied made her want to press herself closer to him.   
Suddenly she felt his calloused hand cup her cheek then her chin as he pulled her face up towards him. She blinked owlishly up at him before he quickly seized her mouth with his own. His hand went from chin to the back of her head as he gently pulled her deeper into the kiss. Kissing wasn’t a thing he did often, whores didn’t like it especially with a face like his but he wanted to taste her so badly. She was still at first but the deeper they kissed went the more she wanted of it until he rolled them, her to her back and he at her side. He broke the kiss and pressed his brow to hers, “You can tell me no whenever you want, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”  
“If I didn’t want to, you’d have a blade in you by now.” She said breathlessly before pulling him towards her lips. He moved from his place beside her to settle himself between her thighs that she wrapped around him instinctively. If ever he wanted something it was nothing compared to his desire for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut? No smut? Medium basic cable smut?! I know not what I do.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moderately smutty? feel free to skip I’m no good at this

The kisses became more ravenous and little heathen that she was she started to nip at his lips, his cheek, his neck. She wanted him closer, wanted more of everything he was doing. She clung to him and she could swear there was a low rumble in his chest as they nuzzled and kissed, something akin to a purr.  
He had no intention of pushing her this far this fast, he was a carnal beast but he’d wanted to make sure she was really willing and ready. He had meant to be patient but it seemed she had other ideas. She was strong but so very soft. He wanted to touch every part of her. He kissed her deeply as he ran his hand down the length of her body coming to the hem of her shift that he fisted. He pulled it up to her waist as he ground himself against her pressing his forehead to hers again. He kissed her deeply again as he tugged at her small clothes, they gave away easily. He thought for moment he’d gone too far and he should pull away, but that thought was fleeting as she reached to pull her shift up and over head.  
It was so hot, she couldn’t stand the feel of the shift between them any longer , she just wanted to be closer. She’d never been particularly shy but she’d also never been naked beneath a man before. She’d always thought it would make her vulnerable, but that’s not how she felt. She felt stronger because the way he looked at her she knew she was wanted.  
His little wolf had been more brazen than he thought baring herself to him he thought he might cease to breathe at the sight of her. So much pale skin, she had scars too but even those looked finer and more delicate than his. She was definitely not a boy and whoever said she looked like one was getting done way with. She wasn’t a buxom wench, that never was his preference anyways. Yes she was soft to the touch but he could feel the strength in her with every movement. She might bend but she wouldn’t break. She’d always worn boys clothes and kept herself bound while they traveled but even then he’d known she’d be a sight. Her breasts high and full, perfect for her frame. Her stomach was flat and smooth. Her clothes did her no justice he thought as he bent to her again. He’d lose himself like a green boy if he didn’t calm down.  
She ground herself against him searching for some friction to dull the ache that was welling inside her. He growled into her neck as he nipped at her ear and whispered, “careful sweetling.” Then he lowered his head to her chest and began to lick, kiss and suckle her.  
She ran her short nails through his hair and down his neck to his upper back. What he was doing felt so good but it only made the ache worse. She arched against him, releasing his head as she grabbed at the pillows above her. She definitely needed more, she definitely needed him so she told him so.  
He rolled his hips as he gripped her thigh pushing it higher against his side.” Tell me if I’m hurting you. You have to tell me. Promise me?”  
“Can’t be worse than being stabbed, you won’t hurt me not really.”  
He kissed her deeply before he finally pushed inside, she was uncomfortable. The pressure of it, then finally the pain, but the pain ebbed and faded to the background as they found a rhythm. He swore and mumbled his love for her as she whimpered at the fullness she felt. The pace became quicker and more sporadic until he grabbed at her hip tightly, swore to her name and spilled a deliciously warm heat through her belly. He buried his head in her neck and told her he loved her again. She sighed and called him idiot as she kissed at his head.  
Morning found them still wrapped in each other having repeated the act two more times before dawn. Arya woke first. Today so different from the day before. She was married, minus her virtue but if the sounds of his sleep were any indication she had gained one contented husband. She left him to sleep. She was ravenously hungry and the training yards were active. She dressed and grabbed needle before looking back at the sleeping hulk in the oversized bed and gave a genuine smile for the first time in a long time. Now off to teach the unsullied a lesson or two about Braavosi water dancing


	19. Chapter 19

Married life suited Sandor just fine, more than fine. He was content for the first time in his life. Tormund accused him of being led around like a pet by such a small girl. He told the wildling right where to fuck off. It was true he did follow her around but he was enamored with her. She was still the little wild wolf she’d always been but she’d seen some things and her mind was just as sharp as her blade. He definitely married above his station, but he was grateful of every second he spent in her company for shortly it would all be over.  
Part of the agreement to his marriage was that his wife was not to be told of how he bargained for her hand, not until after he left. She was still under the impression she was the reward for deeds already committed and not payment for the sacrifice he was about to make. So he spent every moment he could spare near her, with her or closer enough to watch her. His time with her was slipping away and sometimes he felt his heart crumbling when he looked at her, how could he willingly walk away from the one thing he’d wanted to keep.  
The dragon queen had bade him visit her so she could go over the details. He had less than a week and he would leave, with a small contingent of men, no more than six to go back over what was left of the wall. The ice dragon had been wounded but it wasn’t destroyed. The night king was still a threat. The masses of the dead had been thwarted at great cost but the root of the evil had managed to slip away with the dragon, both injured but not close enough to dead.  
He would go north and finish them off, dragon glass and wildfire would be his weapons. He wasn’t thrilled about the later but it was effective. They couldn’t risk sending more men. The more bodies fell the more potential soldiers the night king would gain. Everything north of the wall had been killed or destroyed already, the blue bastard had no one left to turn. He was to take the dragon first if possible then the night king, if he thought he would fail he was to use the wildfire. A weapon had been made to disperse it, it was more or less a giant firebomb. If he failed and was forced to use the wildfire it was unlikely they’d be able to get enough distance after setting it off to survive. That’s what he’d agreed to. He would either come home to his wife or he would burn to death, but either way this was going to end. Either way she would be safe.  
He came down the steps from the southern tower after his visit with the queen. He could hear her voice as she taunted whatever unfortunate she was sparring with. He followed that sound until he could see her small form twisting and turning, her sword an extension of her own body. She was so quick and quiet, graceful in a way he’d never be. He could watch her all day. She finally put the poor fool on the ground and he conceded. Sandor clapped, people glared. He didn’t care. The only thing that mattered now was the girl walking toward him shaking her head as she smirked. She didn’t like it when he cheered her on but it didn’t stop him so she sighed as she sheathed needle and then let him kiss her deeply, like he did every time, like it would be the last time.


	20. Chapter 20

Arya didn’t ever think she would find herself married to the hound, if someone had asked her what was the most impossible situation she could find herself in, well honestly she couldn’t have even ever thought this up. He was still loud, coarse, and to the point but he had also mellowed some. He even had a soft spot or two but those all belonged to her. She fell in love with her husband, there was no two ways about it.   
Once he had been all she had. She was caught between the hate and blame of his association with the Lannisters and growing attachment she’d formed to her protector and teacher. Now he was fully enmeshed in her life and it was as if he’d always been there.   
And then there was the lovemaking or as Sansa had called it the “ rutting of two wild animals with no consideration for their neighbors.” They’d chased most of the other guests of their particular hall to other lodgings. She never much thought about laying with a man, she had far more important things to concern herself with than foolish lust but now lust was usually how she began and ended her day. Not to mention the encounters in the vacant pantry or the empty stables. Her husband was enthusiastic with his attentions and Arya was becoming equally attentive to him.   
They had become wrapped in each other and as much as Arya was basking in glow of her husband’s love he was with her all the time and sometimes that might be a problem. Like the past two weeks, she’d been seeking a time to meet with Sam Tarley, her brother’s round maester friend. She knew him to be good at his calling and trustworthy but Sandor was ever her shadow. She was quite grateful the queen had called for him this morning so she could finally seek Sam’s opinion in private.   
She didn’t really need a maester to tell her she was with child but she felt ill prepared. She knew nothing of what carrying a babe would be like, what she was going to feel, things she should look for or stay away from but since her conversation with Sam and his confirmation she was in fact carrying a pup she felt lighter. He had been reassuring and frank, she appreciated that.   
She sparred after she left Sam, he’d told her to be careful and that soon she might want to think about alternative ways to expend her energy. Sam reminded her once her husband knew the happy news anyone who tried to fight her was going to end up dumped off a parapet. He wasn’t wrong, Sandor was fiercely protective and she didn’t think he was going to back down once he knew about the babe.  
It was nearly his name day, less than a week away. Now that she was certain she wanted to tell him so bad but she couldn’t resist the opportunity to give him one good name day memory. She’d been poking and prodding him for more knowledge about himself. The day he was born, what was the name of his first war horse, what was his lady mother’s name, things a wife should know about her husband. He’d grudgingly told her the date and that it mattered not. Nothing good ever came of that day and he just ignored it. He was getting older all the time one day of the year didn’t mean much but it would.  
He clapped as she finished her match, he drew so much attention but she wouldn’t lie if she said she liked knowing the hound appreciated her fighting style even if others grumbled about his presence. He came down to her and kissed her and it took everything she had not to blurt out what she’d been keeping to herself. She just smirked and took his hand, the hand of her husband, the hand of the father of her child


	21. Chapter 21

Tormund came to Sandor the morning after next, seemingly unbothered by their task at hand. He’d volunteered to go along even though Jon said he didn’t have to, he felt obliged to go though. The dog was used to southern weather and the wilding would find his discomfort entertaining.  
“The little white haired dragon girl said it’s ready to go, just waiting on you dog. You told your wolf bitch yet?”   
“No, she isn’t to know until we’re long gone.”  
“You think that’s wise, heard she’s got a temper and lots of sharp blades.”  
“I’m not telling her, your not telling her. She is not to know until after it’s done.”  
“Why? Don’t you want her to send you off?”  
“Listen here wildling, my woman is none of your concern,” Sandor snapped before stomping away.  
The hound raked his long fingers through his hair, his time had run out. He’d hoped in vain something would happen, fate would intercede and allow him to stay with her, but it was not to be. It had already been arranged, he would leave in the small hours. He didn’t want her noticing his absence until daybreak. He had to get away from her as quickly as possible once it was time to go. If she caught him, if he had to look her in the eye and tell her he was going, he’d fail. He couldn’t watch her heart break, it would break his too. No, if she knew, he was doomed to fail, he’d never make it out the gate.  
He absentmindedly scrubbed the side of his face, his burned cheek, as he strode through the halls. He had to find her. Spend every last moment he had being her husband, he had to remember all of it so when he lay dying he could go remembering what it was like to be loved, what it was like to love.  
He made his way to their chamber bursting through the door, Arya was in the bath. “Don’t you know to knock?” She said to him as she threw a wash rag at his face.  
He ignored her question as he reached down and pulled her from the water and into his arms. “Excuse me, my water is going to get cold!” The small girl complained as she tried to wiggle from his arms.  
“Fuck the water.” He growled as he took her to their bed. She was a squirmy thing, wet from the water and slippery as an eel from the soap. As if she wasn’t hard to manage normally she was twice the handful now. She nearly slipped from his grasp before he caught her and pinned her again. “Be a good girl for me. Lay down for your husband.” He murmured in her ear as he he tried to keep her controlled with one hand as he undid his sword belt with the other.  
She couldn’t help the warm flush that ran through her. His voice did things to her, damn him. Before she could think of a cutting reply his lips crushed hers before pulling away quickly. He stood at the side of their bed and threw his jerkin and shirt off before grabbing at Arya and turning her to her stomach then pulling her up by her hips to her hands and knees. Quicker than she thought possible she felt him ready behind her and then a second after that he had buried himself in her. Before she knew it he had already set his punishing rhythm and all she could do was hold on and whine his name. He wa thrusting hard enough to make the big bed slowly shift. Arya was losing herself and she could barely keep up with him. As if he felt her slipping he kneeled on the bed and wrapped his strong arm under her belly reaching up to steady her, his hand finding its way to her throat, cradling it. He pulled her to him with each thrust until he could take no more and poured himself into her again.   
He would only give her a short reprieve. He would have he again and again. As much as he could get until she finally gave out, collapsed on his chest glowing from exertion with the sheen of sweat covering her as she nestled herself next his heart. He let his fingers trace nonsense patterns on her skin as he tried to commit the scent of her hair and the feel of her skin to his memory.   
She had been asleep nearly an hour when he removed himself from their bed. Her bed now. He was sure he’d never sleep in it again. He tucked the blankets and furs around her hoping to distract her from missing the heat of his body. He quickly dressed in only his breeches, boots and light shirt. The jerkin, mail and cloak he would take were in the stables already waiting. He couldn’t risk lingering so close to her. Every second he spent staring at her sleeping face made it that much harder to walk out of that room when all he wanted to do was hold her. But he was a man of his word, so he did as he promised and shut the door, walking away from the only thing he ever wanted.   
He made his way to the stables to finish dressing and to meet the rest of the unfortunates going north. He donned his thick new cloak with the wolf’s fur Arya had just gifted him and mounted his new black horse, who wasn’t stranger but was nearly as ill tempered and rode out into the morning so early it was still dark as night. He didn’t look back, couldn’t for risk of failing. Blessedly Tormund kept his mouth shut as he rode next him. Only after day had broke, had the wildling slapped him on the shoulder and gave him a stoic nod as they continued journey into the cold nothingness beyond the wall.  
Back in their bed Arya woke up cold and alone. . .


	22. Chapter 22

Arya woke up in the big bed alone, shivering slightly from the morning chill. It wasn’t unusual for her to wake up without him in bed, he got up unnaturally early out of years of habit. Arya had no desire to wake up before dawn for no good reason especially when she slept in a bed like theirs. It was definitely going with them when they went to their own keep, she didn’t care if she had to steal it piece by piece. She stretched like a cat over to his side, burying her face in his pillows, inhaling the smell of him, before she padded out of bed and into her clothes for the day.  
As she walked the halls people kept giving her looks, not staring exactly, but just quick looks as if she might snap at them. What was even more odd was the fact she couldn’t find her husband. He wasn’t in the training yards, running drills. He wasn’t in the dining hall. Nor was he in the stable tending his new war horse. In fact the horse was gone. Something cold and watery brushed through her as she stood before the empty stall. Sandor had a way with animals, this horse was nearly as ill behaved as his stranger so no one bothered with it but him. If the horse was gone so was it’s master.  
Arya sought out her brother, if her husband had left he would know, he should know or at least be able to do something about it. She found he was in conference with Daenarys, Sansa had told her when she went stomping by. Now her red headed sister tried to calm her as she made her way the dragon queen’s war room.   
“You can’t just barge in you know,” Sansa chirped as they approached the door.  
“Watch me. Bet this door isn’t even locked.” As she turned and shoved the heavy oak doors opened. Sansa knew whatever was about to happen it wasn’t going to be good.  
“Jon, I need to talk to you.” Arya demanded not the least bit concerned about the group of people gathered around the table, least of all the queen at its head.  
Daenarys stood up,“ you’re all dismissed.” Everyone filed passed Arya most of them kept their eyes down except Ser Davos who have her a sympathetic smile as he passed. Arya only raised and eyebrow.  
“Someone kindly tell me what the fuck is going on with everyone shooting me these looks, and where in the hell is my husband, I can’t find him, his horse is gone too.” Arya spoke faster and faster. “Where is he Jon? I have to find him, it’s his name day today and I have something to tell him, tell me where he is.” Her voice had broken to pleading, Jon never felt more like a bastard than now.  
Dany spoke again,” Arya, come sit I’ll explain everything.” And so she did. She explained how Sandor had bargained for her and now he was making good on his word. How what he was doing was the utmost importance for all of them, how he could end it all, bring an end to all the death and destruction so life could begin again.  
“What about his life? What about mine? You let us be married as if we were to have a life together only you knew you were sending him to die.”   
“Arya, it’s not that simple.” Jon said as he tried to put a reassuring arm around his little sister, the only one who never made him feel as though he was less than. And he has failed her miserably. She threw his arm away from her.  
“Fuck all of you, treacherous snakes, every one of you. If you won’t call him back I’ll just catch up to him, I can travel faster than loaded down war horses anyhow. I can catch him by tomorrow.” Arya turned to walk away before Jon caught her by the arm.  
“ Arya I can’t let you do that.”  
“Why not, I’ll go with him if need be but he’s not going up there to die alone.”  
“You know why, Arya, Sam came to see me.”  
Sansa shot her brother a quizzical look, “What has your maester got to do with anything.” She turned to her sister.“ Arya are you sick? Or oh no, you’re not? Please say you aren’t”   
Arya just pulled away from her brother and looked at the ground, before turning and bolting back out the door and down the hall. Sansa turned from open door back to her brother, “I hope this is all worth it.” Then she quietly left the room trailing Arya at a safe distance.  
“I’ll inform the watchmen that your sister is not to be permitted outside the gates.” The queen said as she stood at her table running her fingers along the indentations on the wood.  
“So concerned that the plan will fail? I should just take Rhaegal and bring him back.” Jon said as he paced alongside the table.  
“You will do no such thing, we cannot risk exposing another dragon to Viserion or the knight king or else we truly would be lost. Clegane knew what he was getting into and if anyone is strong enough to come back from that it’s him. He is our best hope for ending this without exponential loses. Until we know whether he was successful our priority is to take care of what he left behind. Everything in your sister might be screaming to try and save him but whether he fails or succeeds, she can’t be there for that. She would only serve to distract him, and if he fails then her child will have to be his legacy. She would never forgive herself if she did something foolish that risked the life of baby, trust me I know.” Daenarys took her seat again and the conversation was over.  
Sansa kept some distance between her and her sister until she arrived at the door to Arya’s chamber. The door was shut but it was plain to hear the destruction happening on the other side. Glass shattering, wood hitting stone, the crash and slam of things being thrown, she let it go on for a time patiently waiting for Arya to tire herself. When the noises slowed Sansa slowly opened the door to find her younger sister sitting on the stone floor next to the fire, back to the wall.   
Arya had always been strong, willful, defiant even. She survived so much, for so long on her own. She was just a child when their happy life was ripped apart and where Sansa had been frightened, cowering in fear Arya had made her way, made herself stronger. Sansa admired her for that but now she looked like that little girl again, so small and full of hurt. Sometimes Sansa didn’t know what to do with her sister but now she just felt the need to hold her. So she did, knelt beside her on the floor and Arya let her, if only just this once.


	23. Chapter 23

Arya couldn’t stand the sight of their chambers, the things he’d left behind as if he were gone for just a moment. Every inch of it held a memory and for the life of her she didn’t want to spend another night in that bed alone. The room was mostly destroyed except for the bed, she’d hacked at it fitfully with needle but to little avail, it was too big and strong to do much more than scratch at it. How she hated it now.  
Sansa had arranged for Arya to take the adjoining chamber next to hers, but when she suggested that she have someone come and right the room she destroyed Arya told her in no uncertain terms the room would stay as it was, “He made this mess, he can clean it up when he returns.” Arya turned and left the room without looking back.  
She hadn’t been frightened when she first realized she was carrying his pup. It was a warm feeling and although she had not the slightest idea on how to be a proper mother she wasn’t scared because he was with her and they would bumble to be sure but it would be alright in the end. Now she was alone and unsure. She’d not grown up the right way, when girls first learn of romance and love she was learning to kill, to take faces, to bring death. Was it even possible for her to care for a child? Would it hurt to look at the babe and see only him? She held her belly and cried in her small chamber in her little bed, cold and alone. Cold and alone like she was the morning he left her and every morning since.  
Sansa kept a watchful eye on her sister. As much as she wanted to swoop in and manage things she held back, Arya was a wild thing and too much interference was bound to make her snap. She let her be as much as possible but she wasn’t eating nor sleeping properly and after weeks of watching Arya wallow in her pain Sansa had had enough.  
It had been over two moons and Arya had yet again barely touched her meal and was readying herself to go to the yards to pick a fight with an unfortunate, aside from a few, most were unaware she was with child and the those that knew kept their mouth shut about her sparring. “Where do you think your going?” Sansa asked calmly as she stood in the doorway between their chambers.” You need to eat more than that especially if your going to go work yourself like you do.”  
“I’m fine.” Arya responded flatly as she made to grab needle.  
“No, You’re not fine. You’re pregnant. You’re hurt. You’re angry. And you have every right to feel that way, how all this went wasn’t fair to you and it isn’t fair to babe either.” Arya blanched at the mention of the child. She tried not to think about it but it was getting harder, it wasn’t just a thought anymore but something she could feel.  
Sansa stepped into the room and approached her sister slowly. “Arya, you have to take better care of yourself. I know you’re hurt, I can’t even imagine how deeply, but you have to be strong. You loved him, you love him still, I know you do or else you wouldn’t hurt so badly. Your child was made from that love, don’t let the pain destroy that. Your child needs you. I know you can do this and I’ll be here with you, I’ll help you, you aren’t doing this alone.” Sansa closed the distance and reached for her sister’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.  
Arya’s eye were rimmed with tears again but she didn’t let them fall. She sniffed and held her head high looking more like herself than she had in awhile. She turned back to her sister. “You said you’d help me? Do you think you could do something with my breeches? I can barely get them on now.” Arya lifted her jerkin to expose the top of breeches laced stretched across her still small but very present bump.  
“ I was wondering how much longer you were going to try and hold out,” Sansa rolled her eyes as she put her arm around Arya’s shoulder. “ I already made you something, some leggings, should be more comfortable than breeches especially the bigger you get. I’m working on another jerkin but I had to wait for you to stop being stubborn so I could make adjustments. I’ll give you the leggings now if you finish the rest of your plate.”  
Arya glared petulantly as she sat back down and shoved a spoonful of porridge in her mouth, “happy?”  
“Ecstatic.”  
As her belly got bigger Arya became more herself, the hurt was still there. She missed him everyday, she had so wanted him to see all this but she would have to do it without him. She’d loved her pup from the first moment the idea of it ran through her head and no matter the pain she felt she knew what she had to do now. He’d left her a gift, she’d do anything and everything to keep her babe from knowing the kinds of hurt she and it’s father had felt.  
Sansa had turned into a mother hen, it was slightly annoying but it was also a comfort to have her company and her thoughts as well as her sewing skills. The babe already had plenty of sleeping gowns and little booties and mittens, a plethora of small caps and she’d taken special care with the blankets with the dog and wolf sigils. Arya’s heart constricted at the sight of the embroidery but she held a stiff smile and thanked her sister. It was just a reminder of what was missing and who should be here, but he wasn’t. Sansa wrapped her sister in a warm embrace before Arya shrugged it off and changed the subject to Dothraki fighting styles and Sansa’s eyes glazed over


	24. Chapter 24

The hound hated every step he took, every inch that took him farther away from the girl. Nevermind the miserable cold, he’d lived most his life in the warmer   
Southern and westerlands and he hated it but it wouldn’t kill him, but the thought of never being near her again. That was the thing that would do him in.  
The trip was so very long, weeks on weeks. He knew he’d been gone a full moon and then some before they ever reached their destination. They lost one of the horses on the way up, it took a bad step and it’s leg was broken, nothing to do but end the poor creature’s suffering. He might wish the same thing if he still didn’t keep that small hope that he’d survive this, but it wasn’t looking good and he was never an optimist.  
It took another three weeks above the wall to find what they were looking for. The ice dragon was not much more than a carcass, great holes in its sides, the look of rotted flesh. Sandor was glad the dragon queen wasn’t present for this, to see what they would do, to see what her child had become. They assembled the instrument of it’s destruction silently and waiting for the right moment. They had three spears of dragon glass tipped with wildfire, but if they missed the first shot he doubted they would be able to get off another before losing their advantage.  
They fired. They missed. Sandor’s heart sank to his feet, it would be over soon and he knew he’d never see her again. He and one of the unsullied tried to get the thing reloaded before the dragon made them, luckily it was down to one eye and that bought them a precious moment or two.The Dothraki fool decided he’d take it himself and grabbed the last spear, he ran towards Viserion full bore and threw the damn thing. It landed in the dragon’s front leg and the explosion was enough to shake the ground. The creature screamed so loud the hound thought his ears would bleed, it thrashed in the green flames back and forth until it finally collapsed in a flaming heap on ground the size of mountain. Sandor still felt a twinge for the queen and the loss of such a creature.  
Finally the thing that they came for showed itself. The Dothraki might have taken the dragon but the blast took him as well, now the hound was down to an unsullied, Tormund and two of his wildling brethren. Sandor readied himself. He would either live or die, but if he were meant to go he was taking that blue bastard with him one way or another.   
The fight was brutal, the night king, even alone, was frighteningly fast and strong. First to lose the fight was a wildling, Tormund looked at the hound and they both knew they didn’t have much time before the fallen would rise again. Then the unsullied fell. All that was left was Sandor, Tormund and one other wildling whose name he couldn’t remember. They were proper fucked, the only option was the wildfire bomb but they’d have to stay close to set it off, and death was certain.   
The second wildling took a grievous blow and fell to his knees, he gave his comrades and knowing look before he reached for the wildfire.  
“What the bloody hell is he doing,” the hound yelled to the red headed wildling. Tormund simply turned and grabbed for Sandor’s shoulder and shoving him back toward the trees and away from the fight.  
The wildling stood and charged the night king with the wildfire, the night king tried to put distance between himself and the dying man but the wildfire exploded before he could get clear. Sandor and Tormund made it just to the tree line when the shock of the fire hit them throwing them into the trees.  
Sandor woke to the smell of the fire, a smell he hated. He tried to get up but his whole body ached, he tried again and was able to right himself. Nothing broken, he had a few good wounds though and bruises to be sure but he was alive. He found Tormund not far away, propped up against a broken tree trunk.  
“You alive?” Tormund quipped before winced.  
“Seems so, you?” Sandor asked as he crouched near the tree stump.  
“ I’m alive, I think, broken arm though probably a rib or two too.” The red headed man reached out with his good arm and Sandor helped haul him to his feet. Sandor eventually came upon his sword half lodged in a tree, after freeing it he made his way back to the edge of the wood Tormund close behind. There was nothing but smoldering carnage, nothing living, nothing undead. Every little piece that had once been a person they chucked back into the fire, nothing could be left, even the night king’s head was punted back into the fire. They tended it all night long. The next morning came cold but peaceful. Sandor looked towards the sky, the grey sky, that matched his wife’s eyes and said, “let’s go home.”


	25. Chapter 25

Sandor didn’t know if he should be grateful for the company of Tormund or if he should have bludgeoned him to death before they made it north of the wall because he well and truly didn’t keep his mouth shut, ever. They’d been traveling for two weeks and had already made it back over the wall. They had left the horses tethered in a clearing well out way of the fight, two had spooked but there was three left, one of them being his black warhorse, he hadn’t named it but Arya had called him shadow on account of him following Sandor whenever he could. He was pleased to see the beast patiently waiting for him.  
Sandor wishes he could ride hard and cut the time he spent traveling but Tormund wasn’t in the shape to do that kind riding, the most that could be hoped for was that he stayed upright. They’d made an attempt to set his arm but it was still mostly useless. The cuts and bruises were healing but it’s not to say they were in good shape. They had next to no food and a long ways to go, some coin but not enough to make the trip nicely comfortable.  
He just wanted to be back with his she wolf, she was going to be well and proper pissed at him. He knew she was just as likely to stab as she was to kiss him. He would take either or both at the same time. She could be angry at him it, he’d spend the entirety of his days trying to make amends and be grateful for it. He would grovel at her feet like the dog he was if it were to please her.  
“You thinking about your little wolf again?” Tormund said to him as he stoked the fire with a dead branch with his good arm. “You get real quiet and get this look in your eye.”  
“How many times do I have to tell you, it’s not your concern.” Sandor snapped.  
“Now now, it’s alright dog, you’ll be back with your girl soon, and you two can go back to fucking like rabbits.” He continued stoking the fire as he spoke, “I was surprised they pried you away from her in the first place, thought for sure she’d turn up with a babe and they’d never get you away then.”  
Sandor just grumbled and went back to his sullen silence.  
They continued making their way back to Dragonstone, the slow process did nothing to better sandor’s mood. When he finally caught sight of the bay and the castle in the distance he swore he could have swam the distance in a heartbeat. It took time to find a boat, the last of their gold spent they took the flatboat across the bay, blessedly big enough for Sandor to bring his horse, he’d grown quite attached to by now, he watched as the great keep drew nearer.  
It was well into the night by the time they landed. He was ready to take a head off should anyone get in his way. He got tired of repeating who he was and what business he had there. Apparently he was assumed dead and they wouldn’t let him pass through the gates of the castle without approval from above.  
Finally a white haired girl appeared at the battlements, she smirked and disappeared again just as the gates opened in front of them. He and Tormund rode through the gate and were welcomed by the dragon queen herself.  
“ I know you wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t completed your task so now all I have to say to you is that you have our eternal thanks.”She said as she stood the stone steps ahead of them.” Your both injured, I’ll have the maester see to you right away, leave your horses I’ll have them tended to.”  
“The wildling will need use of the maester, I have other things I need to attend to.” Sandor said as he stormed past the queen with her hands folded primly in front of her. He never climbed the tower so fast, the halls never seemed so long. The hour was late there was no one about just the silent flickering of the torches lighting the way. When he finally reached his chamber door, he stopped and stared at it for moment before placing his hand upon knob.  
The room was destroyed. Everything was broken, shattered, in pieces and under a cover of dust. She wasn’t here. His heart sank. She’d left. He sat down on the edge of the only thing still standing, the bed, and held his head in his hands.  
“She’s with lady Sansa,” a familiar voice said to him. He looked up to the hand of the queen standing in the doorway. “You ran off so quick, her grace didn’t get time to tell you. After you left she took the rooms next to Sansa. After she did some redecorating of course.” Tyrion smiled then backed out of the room.  
Sandor followed Tyrion down the halls until they came to a familiar corridor, the hall he’d spied Sansa in before the wedding. Tyrion merely nodded at him then knocked on Sansa’s door. Sandor gave him a queer look. “The chambers she’s in now are connected to lady Sansa’s, you’ll be able to go right in. I figured you’d need the element of surprise in case she tries to kill you.” Just then the door opened to a weary Sansa.  
Her eyes grew big but before she could say anything Tyrion laid a hand upon her arm,” I was wondering, my lady, if you would join me for a late night cup of tea?”  
Sansa turned her eyes from Sandor back to the hand of the queen,” probably just as well, I’m not sure I want to be here once she sees him.” She leveled a look back to Sandor, “You hurt her, and she is angry, but you need to settle your differences for the ..” but Sansa stopped herself she finished her thought and turned and grabbed a long robe and pushed her way past the large man before turning back to him. “Her door is on the right, be careful, she’s been a little irritable as of late.” Then Tyrion took Sansa’s hand like a gentleman and led her back down the corridor.  
Sandor stepped inside the little bird’s room, dark but warm, he saw the door and once again his heart felt as if it might fall out of his chest but he strode towards it nonetheless. He opened the door slowly and stepped inside as gentle and as quietly as he could. He took a look around and first thing he noticed was that she wasn’t in her bed, he panicked for a split second before he caught sight of her arm dangling over the arm of a great chair by the fire. He walked slowly but purposefully, he didn’t want to spook his wolf. He walked around the chair to kneel in front of her.  
She was just as beautiful if not more so than she had been in his memories. Her hair was longer and braided, Sansa’s influence to be sure, one arm dangled while the other rested on the spine of a book covering her stomach. His girl had fallen asleep reading. He gently pulled the book from her lap only to reveal her once small and flat belly nicely rounded, thick with a child.


	26. Chapter 26

Arya heard the shuffle of someone on the other side of Sansa’s door, voices one of them her sister’s. Her tone wasn’t one of alarm but Arya was still suspicious, so she slipped the stiletto blade up her sleeve just past her wrist using the weight of her arm to keep it in place and then went back to pretending to be asleep. Listening for the door to open and then it did, the steps were heavy, definitely a man unless it was Brienne, the strides were long, too long to be her brother’s. Whoever this was must like to tempt fate. She listened as the man knelt before her, still quiet, then gently took the book from her lap. There was a sharp intake of breath then she felt the radiating warmth of a hand on her belly, she’d had enough and drew the blade to the intruder’s neck before they could so much as flinch.  
Her eyes were wide open now but she thought she must be seeing things wrong for she was looking into the face of her husband. She held the blade tightly, he didn’t twitch or grab for it, content to let her stare a moment longer. He kept the hand on her belly, the only movement was the slight flex of his fingers. She continued to hold fast. She thought she’d never see him again but here he was kneeling before her as if he was a knight . She wanted to throw herself into his arms, to feel safe and content in them again. She wanted to hear the thundering pace of his heart. She wanted to feel and touch and taste him just to be sure she hadn’t lost her mind. She wanted to scream she wanted to cry, but she did none of those things. All she could do was hold the blade.  
Finally he made the move for her, she’d forgotten how quick he could be if he was motivated, snatching the blade from her hand and tossing it across the room. Before she could protest he’d pulled her to the edge of chair, fisting her hair at the back of her head as he devoured her into a kiss. It wasn’t a sweet delicate kiss, it was harsh and full of need. When he released her it was only for the briefest moment before he pulled her into his lap, cradling her but also keeping a firm hold on her as if she might try and slip away.  
She lost herself for a moment, the feel of his lips, the only soft part of him. Then she remembered. He’d left her with no warning, no word, just gone and on his name day no less when she had something so very important to tell him. Yes she remembered now. Rage, sadness, the loneliness, all the things he’d missed with the babe so far. She’d thought him dead. No one dare say it but they’d begin to enact a contingency plan when they hadn’t returned. He’d left her alone and this was by far a thousand times over more painful than listening to him scream her name through the vale.  
She broke the kiss and slapped him in the face, trying to extricate herself from his lap. When that didn’t work she just started hitting him wildly, she didn’t care where she hit she just wanted him to feel it. “You great big arrogant bastard, I could kill you myself!” Then she went for his face. “You left me, You told me nothing, you made me your wife just so you could run off to die,” she yelled as she tried to go for his eyes.  
When she went for his face again , he grabbed her wrists. She was strong but she wasn’t strong enough to break his hold and he knew it. He grabbed her wrists and brought them to his chest as she continued to try and pull away from him.  
“My wolf, listen, listen to me.” He said calmly despite her thrashing. “I love you, you heathen girl. I don’t care how mad you get doesn’t change anything. I love you. I had to do it, seven knows I didn’t want to but I had to go. I knew if I tried to say those words to you, I couldn’t. I’m not strong enough, and I’m sorry. I should have told you from the start but I just wanted to be with you. When they ordered me to go I told them I wouldn’t do it unless I had you. If I was going to die I wanted a chance do right by you first.”  
“Is this your idea of doing right?” She was still seething and she nodded toward her belly.  
“I didn’t know, I would say that I’m sorry and I should have been more careful but it’d be a lie. I’m not the least bit sorry and I’m glad, everyone else can fuck off, you’re mine. Seeing you like this, with my pup in your belly, I’ll tell you now girl. No one will ever take me from you and no one will ever take you from me.”  
“I’m still angry,” Arya said softly as she finally gave in and let her head fall to his chest.  
“ I know, sweetling, I’ll take my punishment however you see fit just as long as you I get to be near you.”  
“You can start by fixing our chambers, I broke everything, except the bed. I tried though.” She said as she yawned.  
“Aye if that’s what you want.” Sandor whispered into her hair.  
“Well?”  
“Right now?”  
“Right bloody now.” She countered.  
“Girl it’s late, I’ll do it as soon as I wake.” He said still nuzzling her head.  
“No, I want to sleep in our bed. I’ve been sleeping in here since you left and that bed is awful and saggy compared to ours. I’m carrying your welp and it’s been murder on my back and I want to sleep in the bed in our chambers, it’s the most comfortable bed and I want it. Right now, tonight.”  
“Why are you in here if you’d rather sleep there?”  
“Because, those were our chambers, our bed, and I couldn’t bear the sight of it without you.” She looked off to the side as a tear ran down her cheek. Sandor sighed and pulled her close again.  
“Alright then, let’s go. Don’t think I can finish it all before sun up though.” He said as he kissed the top of her head. He grunted as he heaved himself up off the stone floor then reached to help the she wolf to her feet. He wrapped her shoulders in a throw blanket and they began the trek back to their chambers. Sandor surveyed the damage and he was quite impressed with the level of destruction she’d caused.He gathered the broken pieces and threw them in the fireplace. Anything that was salvageable he stacked in a corner. He cleaned off the bed just as the fire had finally calmed to a soft warm glow. He reached for her hand and much like their wedding night he pulled back the covers for her to climb in first. This time though she didn’t try and distance herself but settled right in the middle.  
“Just warning you girl, I smell like a wildling.”  
“You’ve smelled worse.”  
“Have I?”  
“Yes, yes you have. But I don’t care.”  
He undressed quickly, relieved to be out his clothes for the first time in seven knows how long and climbed in next Arya. He laid on his side and let her rest on his arm. He bent down to kiss her more gently then he had before and ran his hand down her side. He rested his forehead upon hers and she could feel him gathering her shift in his hand, that reminded her of the first night too.  
“Let me see.” He said softly as he nuzzled her cheek.  
“What?”  
“My pup.”  
Arya nodded slightly as he began to pull her shift upwards until at last he uncovered her. She felt huge but she knew she was going to get so much bigger. She watched him as he slowly placed his hand on her bare stomach. No one had really done that, except for herself and Sam when he was examining her. She felt something in her relax, he was really back. He rubbed his hand up and down and around covering every part of her swollen belly marveling at what they’d made. When his eyes finally met hers again she reached up and kissed him sweetly.  
“ I’ll let you rest tonight since you had a long journey, but tomorrow you’d better fuck me and it better me good.” She said as she turned to snuggle into him.”  
Sandor chuckled, “As you command, my lady.”  
She halfheartedly slapped him in the arm before drifting of to sleep in her husbands arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you want more or should I leave it here?


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I made you wait so long. .

Sandor expected to sleep for days but just like always he woke before the sun, he looked down at his chest where Arya had settled herself mouth slack, snoring softly in a little puddle of drool. He couldn’t be happier. She was here, next to him. She was safe and maybe the world wouldn’t go to shit. He couldn’t let it, not before and certainly not now that he knew. She was with child, his child, their pup.   
She was a fertile little thing, his wife. He knew they’d been vigorous in their lovemaking to be sure but he hadn’t expected her to catch so easily. The difference in their age always loomed over his head, not to mention his litany of injuries he’d endured at the Lannister’s bidding. He didn’t doubt they’d have pups eventually but he thought have to work a bit harder for it. Yet her belly was nestled next to his, round and full of life. He truly didn’t deserve any of this.  
Just then Arya woke, nuzzling her husband’s chest hair, he had his great paw of hand on her belly again. While she loved the child she carried she didn’t love everyone’s obsession with trying to put their hands on her, Ser Davos had nearly lost his when he tried to give her a friendly pat. She felt sort of sorry for scaring him, but not really.  
“Why are you doing that?”  
“Doing what?” He mumbled as he leaned to kiss the top of her head.  
“You know what. What is so fascinating about touching my stomach.” Arya glanced up at him with one dark eyebrow raised.  
“I missed so much of this already,” he nodded towards her belly,” I still can’t half believe it’s happening, as we speak, our pup is right there, growing stronger everyday.”  
Arya lifted herself off his chest and gave Sandor the softest sweetest kiss he could imagine. He wanted to linger in it but before he could settle into the feeling Arya was hopping out of bed and digging for clothes.  
“Where you think you’re going girl?”  
“ I’m hungry, in fact I’m always hungry now, but mornings are the worst.”  
“Get back in bed,” he groaned as he got up and flexed his stiff shoulders.  
“I can get my own food Sandor, I’m not an invalid.”   
“Woman, get back in bed.” He said as he grabbed her jerkin from her hand. “Now, get back in the bed. I’ll get food then come right back. I don’t want you up and about. Stay here, just as you are and I’ll be right back.”  
Arya huffed and plopped down on the bed as she watched her husband scurry about half dressed, pulling on his now ruined and worn out boots. She settled herself back under the covers laying all over his pillows, she missed this. What she didn’t miss was watching him walk out the door.  
Sandor made his way down the corridors, people were starting to stir but the place was still mostly quiet. He found the kitchen bustling and the cooks were annoyed by him barging in. The morning meal was nearly done, why couldn’t he wait and eat with everyone else? But he picked up pieces of fresh bread some cooked eggs, fresh fruits and damned if they didn’t just finish with a ham. He took a heap but couldn’t help but pick at it as he walked back to their room. This was how it should be, him waiting on her. He wanted very much to make sure she was tended to properly. Tormund had teased him before about being the girls pet, now he was her willing slave, not that that ginger cunts opinion counted for anything. She was his she wolf, now mother to his pup, he would do everything possible to keep her contented.  
Soon he was back at his own door, she was dozing on his pillows already. Arya never was one for his early mornings he thought to himself as he set the food down and brushed the hair out of her eyes.  
“Didn’t you get anything for you?” She asked after she stirred and sat back up in the bed.  
“What you mean, girl, I damn near took half of everything” he laughed to himself as he sat next to her bringing the plate closer between them.  
“I swear sometimes I could literally eat everything.” Arya looked down at her belly, “ and it’s all this one’s fault.”  
They ate in relative silence, Arya wasn’t kidding, she ate like a starved wildling, her manners would have definitely offended her sister’s delicate sensibilities but Sandor didn’t mind. After they finished and she let out a contented sigh as she laid a hand on the side of her belly, Arya attempted to remove herself from the bed to get dressed for the day.  
Sandor grabbed her wrist and pulled her to stand between his legs at the edge of the bed.  
“Where do you think you’re off to?”  
“The yards, I’ve been trying to teach Podrick Payne how to be less useless.”  
“No.”  
Arya laughed, ”Wasn’t asking.”  
“You’re what, over halfway through with your time, you’re not sparring. I’ll take anyone’s head who thinks he’s going sparr with you while you’re carrying our babe.”  
“You big idiot, I’m not sparring, as soon as I started to show they all got scared and wouldn’t come near me. I’m just teaching him a few simple things, no steel, no training swords. I got tired of Sansa’s nagging,” Arya said as she absently picked at the cuff of her shift.  
“Well that’s a waste of time, I’ve seen blind beggars with better blade skills. I’ve got a better idea.”  
“What’s that?”   
“You naked in my bed.”  
“You’re not subtle are you?”  
“ I’ve been away for months, wife. And I believe you wanted me to fuck you, and I am all too happy to do my husbandly duty and tend to my wife’s needs.”   
He had pulled her even closer rubbing his hands over her hips as he spoke lowly to her. His arms wrapped around her as he pulled her into a deep kiss. He began to devour her, starting with her lips and moving down her neck, his hands roamed up and down her body feeling her skin warm beneath his hands.  
“I want you naked, girl” he breathed into her ear as he nipped and kissed at it.  
She obliged and pulled the shift up and over her head, letting it fall unceremoniously on the ground. That rumble in his chest did things to her and in her moment of distraction she felt his hands return to her body kneading and pawing at her. Before she could form a coherent thought he’d pulled her gently to the bed, setting her on the edge as he stood to undress himself. Suddenly she felt extraordinarily shy. She wasn’t as comfortable in her new skin but she hadn’t really exposed herself to anyone since it had changed. Her husband didn’t seem to mind though as he climbed on the bed with her then pulled her to straddle him.  
“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, I’m too big to be in your lap like this.” Arya tried to wiggle from his grasp but he wasn’t having it.  
“You’re tiny girl, always have been always will be. You’re pregnant, you’re body is exactly the way it should be, and I don’t care. I like it, I wasn’t lying when I said seeing you like this did things to me. Tell me you don’t feel how much I want you.”  
Arya couldn’t help it if she mewled a little as he ground himself against her.  
“If you truly don’t want this, tell me so and we stop, but don’t let some silly idea that this isn’t the most beautiful thing I’ve ever gotten to touch keep you from me. You want me?”  
“Yes, you know I do, big idiot”  
“Then let me fuck you wife, good and proper.”  
She couldn’t argue with him as he ground himself against her again. She let him take the lead as he rolled her to her back, leaving trails of wet kisses as he explored her body. He nuzzled and suckled at her breasts, the ache between her legs becoming unbearable as he worked his way down before lavishing her center with his tongue until she broke into a million little pieces.   
“Still sweet as a peach, my love.” He said as he kissed the inside of her thigh before he stood pulling her close to edge of the bed. Before she could think of witty reply he was at her entrance and second after that he was inside and all she could do was whine. He held fast to her thigh as he hiked it over his hip, his blessedly long arms meant even in her state he could still hold himself above her without putting his weight on her. His pace was brutal but she wanted it no other way. This was honest. This was how much he wanted her and how much she needed him. She’d lost herself again, biting and scratching at him as the pleasure uncoiled inside her. He followed soon after with a growl as he slammed into her with his frantic strokes. He rolled to the side and pulled her with him so he could devour his mouth again. They spent the rest of the morning naked, basking in the glow of their lovemaking, before it was rudely interrupted by knocking at their chamber door.


End file.
